A Midsummer Knight's Dream
by LadyIdril
Summary: When Arthur saves a Woad that was left for dead by her own people, the young woman steals the attention of several knights and their commander. Starting out ArthurOC and possibly LancelotOC and TristanOC as I go. COMPLETE
1. I

_**Disclaimer:**_ The story upon which my tale is based, its characters and settings, belong to  
David Franzoni, Touchstone Pictures and/or Mr. Jerry Bruckheimer, all of whom I claim no  
affiliation with. No monetary gain has been nor will ever be obtained by this story. It's all  
just fiddle-faddle-gumdrops, then. All rights reserved.

_**Summary:**_ When Arthur saves a young Woad woman, he and two of his best knights find  
themselves at the risk of losing their hearts. But will their love for her create a war between  
eachother, and will their world collide with that of the Woads to create Briton's greatest war?

_**Author's Note, Monday 22 June, 2009:**_ If you are familiar with my Arthurian series since its  
birth in 2005, thank you so much for revisiting where it all began! If you are just stumbling  
across these little fables for the first time ... welcome to the nuthouse! I am truly humbled by  
the reception my little series has received, and I cannot thank my dear reviewers enough for  
your continuous support. I am at this moment in the process of rewriting this series from the  
beginning (without, I hope, altering the _je ne sais quoi _that encouraged you all to check it out  
in the first place) and I do hope you will enjoy this second, error-free (I hope!) edition of the  
story of Gaia and her knights. Thank you for reading!

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**I.I **_**Prologue**_

One has heard countless tales of the line of knights, sons and grandsons and great-great grandchildren, who fought for years stretching into lifetimes on the tumultuous grounds of Badon Hill and the fixed, glorious fortress at Hadrian's Wall. Innumerable accounts have come into existence of these men-beyond-men; these unstoppable, invincible warriors. Not men, but gods, as they had transformed through the histories, the firelight passings-down by fathers to their sons over mugs of strongest ale, the young, naive siblings play-fighting around the table legs. A particular image may spark in the eye of most who remember these knights; of men with a heart made solely for war, an appetite for nothing below the stinging, wretched cry of their feeble enemy piercing the surrounding fog. The knights morph from being to being as their stories are told from mouth to mouth, heard from ear to ear. They are ruthless, insatiable, godlike beings to men; to the women they are all-knowing lovers beyond contestation, with hearts and souls brimming to the edge with honour; and they are fearless men of impossible height to the little children, much as they see their own fathers. Through all of these ages of varying accounts and fabrications, some have come to regard these brave knights as figments, the existence of which could be no more real than fairy dust and flying dragons. It is to these souls that the true meaning of courage is lost; it is to these souls that the deepest connection between a man, his king, God and country, so strengthened over time that naught could dare to tempt its separation, has been left entirely in smoke. No such doubts had ever lingered in the minds of men, women, and children at the time when Rome stationed its commanding forces and Sarmatian cavalries on the parapets of Hadrian's Wall. That was a time before the past had even taken place...

As all tales of honor, romance, mystery and war begin with four simple words, so too does my tale of seven men, one woman, and a passion that threatened to consume them all: Once upon a time…

**I – _20 June, 4_**_**66AD**_

Once upon a time, there existed a Britain unlike any Britain the world would ever know again. Clouds crowded the heavens, and so dense as to forever deny the rolling green hills their right to be splendid. Indeed, nothing on this land could hold superiority enough to be deemed splendid. The air hung lankly, thick and unmoving, like a breath of strength holding all within it steadily fixed in place. No colors exuded a dull brown or gray or a lingering hazel. This land had so long been consumed by war as to now depict the word itself; this land _was_ War. No light could ever find strength enough to shine upon it with affection, or so thought the men who had spent fourteen years fighting for it.

Among these men whose spirits waxed and waned with the wind, there was Lucius Artorius Castus, or Arthur. He was a legend standing, breathing in his place, with eyes as clear and bright as the sunshine on the sea and a jaw as strong and unyielding as the very walls of the fortress around him. There was a prowess and valiance in him that could be felt from rooms away, and it was these very qualities that made every man who came to know him feel the insatiable need to bow at his greatness. They never bowed; he would not allow it. To himself, he was no greater a man than any he had ever known. But as it happens, the idolized may sometimes find themselves too busy idolizing others to take notice, and so it was with Arthur Castus.

There is much to know of the men whose swords fell for the mighty Arthur Castus, however you will hear little of their tales from me as much more on the subject of their characters will be revealed as this account continues in its way. The Roman commander had in his charge, at the time in the course of their fourteen year occupation in which our story takes place, six Sarmatian knights remaining, each with their share of the uncharacteristic solicitude in regard to their leader. Nobler names have been given them over time, over battles, but here, so early in their legendary roles, they were simply Sirs Bors, Dagonet, Lancelot, Galahad, Gawain and Tristan.

On the particular day in which my fair account begins, a shroud of pain wrapped itself around the fortress inhabitants; the sort of pain that was always present after a close family member or friend has passed away. The unfortunate man's name was Sir Kay, and he had been killed mere hours earlier. The events which took his life are not of a sort that would shock the folk who resided south of the Wall. Incidents like this had become just as natural as would befit a place of such moroseness. Whether by strategic surprise, unplanned bouts of anger or, quite frankly, as it had come to be over the years, tradition, the Woad attacks were by no means leisurely. Yet, it had been three years since one of the company had been lost forever, and the pain and sorrow seemed to be particularly strong after its lengthy absence.

Each knight now sat at the circular table, far more modest at this point than the opulence it would one day exude; each knight sat, lost in the same, long-anticipated bittersweet reverie of a life now ended, far too soon. But, as the saying goes, with the end comes the beginning, and so it was with these men, however much they disbelieved at present. For, as each man sat fingering their chalice of wine, mead, ale or other sort of spirit-healing spirits, there was also a particular young woman on their minds.

Her name was not yet known to them; in fact, there was only one piece of information that was present in their consciousness, and that was the very simple truth that this woman was one of the people of the woods. Those strange, unearthly beings who they had spent their fourteen years fighting, to whom they had just lost one of their brothers-in-arms. It is easily imaginable that these men needed no other motive to search out their deepest, most biting disdain and hold it readily out to this inferior woman. What, however, was going through Arthur's mind was quite different: this young woman had been brutally attacked by her very own people. Thoughts of reason had fled him when his scout came back to the battle-wearied men, one few in their numbers, and told of the beaten young woman just beyond the lines of fighting; in fleeting moments Arthur had seen the girl, horrified by the image, and without a consulting look to his charges did he order her to be taken to the fortress, to refuge. With the end comes the beginning.

"This is madness." Six pairs of eyes moved, however languidly, to the young Galahad as he spoke. Five pairs of eyes wordlessly agreed with him. One pair of the five in particular, those belonging to the curly-haired Sir Lancelot, were burning ceaselessly with an anger so well controlled, one might mistake it for something else entirely. And these eyes found themselves directing the sole of their firepower at the Roman commander. "She..." Galahad scoffed as he continued, laughing incredulously at the current situation; "She is one of _them_. We should have run her through as soon as look at her! Those _things_, those monsters, they killed Kay!" A fist to the table did well to emphasize his point.

"We know nothing about _her_," Arthur's voice cut across the room, a deep growl of emotion as he ran a large, rough hand over wearied eyes.

"She is a Woad," responded Galahad; "We know _everything_ about her." Thunder rolled in the distance, perhaps a warning to the young knight that his tongue wound swifter than it ought. Arthur stretched his gaze around his men once more, sighing slightly.

"You have trusted me," he addressed them, "these fourteen years, with your very lives. Not idly have these bounds been nettled. What circumstances could put you against me, Knights, I have never imagined." There was then a scrapping of metal upon wood as the chalice belonging to Lancelot moved slowly away from him, drained of its potion. The knight's eyes rose steadily to meet his commander's.

"But these are extraordinary circumstances. Arthur!" A tone, indescribable in its emotion, clung to each word as it left Lancelot's mouth. His angry eyes seemed to dive into Arthur's, pleading for him to reach control over his senses. The commander was silenced, but his decision unaltered.

"Why would the Celts harm one of their own?" A voice not often heard by the other knights and their gracious commander rumbled deeply from a shadowy side of the table. All turned to Tristan and his unexpected question; and an answer was not likely to be found, however much they searched for it in their thoughtful reticence. Bors, however, was not one to sit idly and search silently for words or reasons he had no care for.

"Why the bloody hell should we care?" his vicious return resounded on the stone surroundings; "Let them shite their own, and let us have done with their damned kind!"

"If she is not with them, she could prove to be an ally," Gawain offered.

"Bullshit," the reply.

Arthur, being well accustomed to such verbal offerings to which Bors was quite reputable, ignored the anger and resentment he now sensed. Attempting another route for which to lay his claim, he spoke of their merciful forefathers.

"By this account, the fortitude of our ancestors was questionably ineffectual," was the murmured response of Sir Lancelot. "Damn this girl, and damn this entire ordeal."

The knight's words were quite enough to set freedom to each man's oft-controlled fire, and the room erupted in a fury of defenses, offenses and likewise profanities. The room seemed well divided, with Gawain, Dagonet and Arthur demanding a design of mercy and salvation, while Sirs Galahad and Bors and the flaming Sir Lancelot were inclined to be obstinate when directed to adhere to it. After what seemed hours of endless arguing, Arthur allowed his rare temper to strike a new level.

"ENOUGH!" he bellowed. Each knight raised eyebrows in his direction, some perhaps expecting to see a new face with the abnormal voice. Lo, that it was their captain in but his very same form! "You speak of our forefathers," Arthur, in his more natural tone, continued; "You speak of their strength, the honor which they uphold. I ask you, do you not think _I_ am in possession of such traits? What roads of error and failure have I been so foolish to lead you down before now?" There was no answer, whatsoever. "Should this decision produce evils against us, I assure you I shall take that responsibility. If you have the trust in me which you claim you have, that same trust which leads you into battle, you will understand me now, here, when I ask this change of you, knights." And the words you see before you do not do the justice to which the voice that spoke them deserves; for, when Arthur spoke of trust and valor, his knights were more than inclined to think themselves bewitched. It was, then, adequately agreed upon that an attempt to save the Celt woman's life would be made.

You will remember, however, that there was still yet one more knight in the room: the oft-forgotten Sir Tristan. He was not dismissed so easily by the men for reasons of dislike, distrust or disapproval; no, Sir Tristan was quite everything trusted and approved of by the men. It was simply that he rarely spoke his opinion without someone's first inquiring after it. The ever-silent scout had not raised more than a few words in the heated moments that had passed during this argument, save, of course, several offhanded warnings to passing rooms keepers who had such unfortunate timing as to coincide with a thrown chalice or other reachable object which Bors might have come across in his debate.


	2. II

_**A/N:** Thanks so much to those of you who reviewed the first chapter! You have no idea how much you totally just made my day! You all rock!_

_ EDITI updated this chapter to correct my Sarmatian flaw. Sorry about that./EDIT  
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The men laughed their anger off, and it seemed to be agreed, at long last, that this mysterious woman was to be aided. Arthur slid silently out of the room and made his way down the corridor. He walked down the lonely corridor with his face set in grim thought. The walls of the fortress were strong and beautiful, just like the line of knights that lived within them. The sun was risen well into the day, and it was now after noon, he had spent more time than expected persuading the men to extend their respects to a harmless young woman. As he walked down the naked hallways, through several doors, and up a flight of stairs, he wondered about Lancelot, and how he had become so cold. It had not been long ago when Lancelot was a caring and gentle man. War had now corrupted him, and he became as cold and lifeless as the rocks in that formed the walls surrounding him. 

Finally, Arthur came to the door he had been walking towards, and knocked slowly. A young handmaiden opened the door slowly, just enough to peer outside.

"My lord!" she said exasperated. "Forgive me," she said as she opened the door, "please come in. She is not doing well, Sir, but the doctor thinks she can be saved if you so desire it."

Arthur walked into the room and glanced around. There was one large bed and several young handmaidens worked hard to prepare a meal for the starving young woman. They all stopped their jobs, and dismissed themselves from the room, leaving a bowl of porridge and a large plate of meet for the sick young woman lying on the bed. Arthur took the tray to her and placed it next to her, sitting on the edge of the bed. He had gotten a good look at her now for the first time. Her dark chocolate hair was smoothed down softly, and her pale skin was clean and clear. Her deep brown eyes were barely closed in exhaustion, but they managed to find the face of her rescuer, and her bright pink lips managed a smile.

"You must eat." Arthur said quietly, taking a spoonful of the porridge and holding it poised in front of her lips. She managed to open her mouth slowly and was grateful for the taste of food. She quickly took more as he offered it. He sat for some time feeding her, and he gently stroked her dark hair. He felt a bond with this young woman, and he didn't understand it. She was not of his kind, but he felt a kindness that issued from her, and he wanted to change her, he wanted her to _become_ one of his kind. Perhaps even a Christian. Right now, she stared adoringly into his eyes with thankfulness and idolization, as he gently aided her in eating the meat. She reached up to him with one hand and gently placed it upon his cheek. He pretended not to notice this, and continued to usher the food to her mouth. He had a strange feeling, however, that he enjoyed the touch of this woman's hand, and was certainly not abashed by it.

The scene of quiet peace and tranquility was interrupted when Doctor Mancomn entered with Bishop Germanus. Neither was surprised to see Arthur tending to the young woman. In fact, they looked expectant of it. They had not, however, been expecting to see the young woman's hand resting on Arthur's face, and they stood for a moment in embarrassment as Arthur pressured her to remove it.

"She is in an ill state, Arthur," said Dr. Mancomn sorrowfully, walking over to the bed. "Upon your word, though, I can bring her through."

"Then it will be done," said Arthur with a smile to the young woman, and she smiled back.

Mancomn nodded and set out to find his nurses. Bishop Germanus remained in the room, but Arthur went back to feeding the nameless young woman without taking notice of him. Germanus walked about the room for a moment, nervously, before speaking to Arthur.

"How did your men come to this decision, Arthur?"

Arthur did not take his eyes from the woman as he spoke. "They trusted me, Bishop. I would think you would know that word by now."

Germanus scoffed a bit at Arthur's rudeness, and he ceased questioning. Arthur decided that he need to know the name of this young woman, but he could not talk with her whilst Germanus stood over his shoulder, listening intently.

"Bishop, I would like some time with the girl, if you don't mind."

He stared at Arthur for a while, a bit incredulously, but nodded and walked out of the room. Arthur moved his gaze back down to the young girl and bent over her so he was very near to her and spoke softly in her ear.

"I am Arthur Castus," he said in a soothing tone, "I am a commander of the Sarmatian knights. You are safe, at Hadrian's Wall. Can you tell me your name?"

She was still smiling at him, and when he finished she opened her mouth hastily, but choked. He found a small mug of water on her bedside table and she took a long, grateful swallow. After a moment of catching her breath, she tried again, and this time she succeeded.

"Thank you," she breathed and he could barely hear her words. "Thank you, Sir Arthur. Thank you." She coughed and gasped as her throat seared with pain. He hastily found the mug again for her, and she took another swallow.

"Your name, Lady, please," he said pleadingly, "I must know it." he reached down and took her hand in his.

She slowly opened her mouth, but no words came out. She sat with her mouth open for a moment, and finally, in barely a whisper, she managed, "Gaia."

"Gaia," he repeated with a smile, though the name was unusual to him. "You're welcome, Gaia. I will not let you feel pain any longer. You are safe."

She beamed at him and opened her mouth again, but he quieted her quickly.

"You are ill, Lady, do not speak." At that moment, Dr. Mancomn came back into the room with several nurses. He spoke quickly to Arthur, ignoring Gaia sitting helplessly on the bed.

"I think she has eaten enough, Arthur, it would be best if you leave her for the rest of the day. Perhaps you can visit her tomorrow." Arthur understood, and he leaned down to whisper into Gaia's ear before he rose from the bed.

"Do not be afraid," he said softly, "You will be well. I shall be back to see you within the day. You have my promise." He gently kissed her hand, and rose. "And, Doctor," he added before closing the door, "her name is Gaia. I suggest you use it."

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_**A/N:** Well, there you have it. There's an explanation behind her name, and that'll all be revealed in a later chapter. Comments/opinions are welcome if anyone feels the urge._


	3. III

_**A/N:** 12 reviews and only 2 chapters! You guys rock! To all the people who noticed my mistake in the first chapter in which Arthur tells Gaia he's a Sarmatian Knight when he is, in fact, a Roman Commander, I sincerely appologize. I really don't know where my head was at when I wrote that.I think I was trying to say he was "with" the knights. Anyway, hopefully that will be the last major mistake that I make and I hope you all enjoy the next chapter! Thanks again!_

_**LovelyHeidi:** To answer your question, the story takes place fourteen years into the knights' service. That would be a year before the film's plot takes place, I believe. I'm sorry that I didn't make that clear. Thanks for the review!_

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Arthur closed the door to Gaia's bedchamber and turned to leave. He was surprised to see Lancelot standing in front of him. Lancelot's eyes were cold, as always, but they were not nearly as livid as they had been. He seemed to have lightened up a bit. He looked at Arthur with less disconsolate and more respect.

"She seems to like you, Arthur," he said gruffly. "And it would appear you feel mutually."

Arthur looked at him with surprise for a moment, but quickly understood that Lancelot had been watching him through the doorway. "I do not pretend to be immune to feelings, Lancelot," he said, walking around his knight and beginning his hike downstairs towards the round table. Lancelot turned and followed him, walking slightly behind and to his right, out of respect.

"I apologize for my behavior," Lancelot began with his eyes to the ground as Arthur turned his head and continued walking.

"Your thoughts were in everyone's best interests." Said Arthur quickly, then he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He was at the end of the hall and he turned to look at the door in thought. "But, perhaps you should see her."

Lancelot's eyes darted up. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Arthur stared at Lancelot for a moment in silence then said, "If you walk in there, look at her-look into her eyes-and you feel nothing, no sense of kindness or righteousness, then I will speak of her no more."

Lancelot thought for a moment, and seemed to decide. "It _would_ be nice to put a stop to this racket," Lancelot said jocosely. "Maybe I will."

"Good." said Arthur with a smile and he began to walk back to the bedchamber. Lancelot stared after him in surprise.

"Now?" he asked with nervousness.

"Of course."

"Arthur, I don't think..." his voice trailed off in desperation, and he finally followed his commander to the door.

Arthur knocked quietly and the same young maiden answered. She noted to the doctor that Arthur had returned, and he made his way to the door to see for himself.

"Arthur," said Mancomn quietly, "I've just given her a sedative. She won't be able to make you out. Why do you not just come back later?"

Lancelot opened his mouth to agree, suddenly feeling, for the first time in a long while, butterflies in his stomach, but Arthur protested strongly.

"No, Doctor, I wish for Lancelot to see her. She does not have to speak with him at all."

Mancomn nodded looking beaten, and led them into the room. Arthur stayed a good distance away while Lancelot walked to the side of the bed. He looked down at the woman who had her eyes almost all the way closed, but opened them slightly at the sound of someone coming. Her brown eyes held joy and excitement when she saw Lancelot, which surprised him greatly.

"Arthur," she mumbled, and Lancelot understood.

"No," he said looking down on her with nervousness and the shadow of disdain, "I am Lancelot. A Sarmatian knight in Arthur's command."

Gaia's joyful eyes faded to a duller shade of brown, but her smile remained. Lancelot looked away from her face to focus on the rest of her. She was beautiful, and had a remarkably handsome and slim figure. She was naked in the bed with the blankets pulled up to her chest. Her arms were clean and pale, but held massive bruises, gashes, and what looked remarkably like teeth marks. He looked at her throat which had bruises on it as if someone had tried to choke her. Her face seemed undamaged, but her hair had been ripped to a short length in places. Her hands were weathered and beaten, he noted, as she reached a finger to touch his hand lightly. He allowed it, but was wary. She looked horrible, yet her countenance suggested she was perfectly happy.

"Who did this to you?" he whispered almost to himself as he noticed all of the scars and gashes around her.

Her smile faded and she opened her mouth and started to mumble something, but was cut off by a sudden choking attack. Doctor Mancomn shot Lancelot a nasty look and found a mug of water for her. Lancelot glared at Mancomn and turned to leave.

"Lancelot," Gaia whispered, barely able to get the word out. He turned, astonished, back to her and took a few steps back towards the bed, waiting for her to speak. Finally, she opened her mouth again. "Thank you."

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_**A/N:**I think I strained a bit with this chapter, not really portraying Lancelot's emotion to my fullest potential. Iwanted him to warm up to her slightly, but I might have gone a bit too soft with him. There's no action yet, as I said before, but there will be in time. Midsummer's Day is coming up so we'll have to see what occurs then, right? Thanks for the many reviews and thanks for reading!_


	4. IV

_**A/N:** Thanks so much for the reviews! I pronounce Gaia's name as "Gay-ya" but I'm not certain of the Greek goddesses pronunciation. In our Woad's case, anyway, it's "Gay-ya".So, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!_

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Midsummer's Day was creeping slowly upon Britain, and the weather had not offered so much as a ray of sunshine for the occasion. Arthur had gone to see Gaia later that night, and it seemed she was showing progress. She had not spoken much, but her breathing was now normal and her wounds tended to. On the third day since Gaia's arrival she was healthy enough to speak, and Arthur visited her first thing in the morning..

"Arthur," she said happily with a cracking voice that had not fully healed.

"You are looking well, Gaia." He smiled at her as he walked to the side of her bed.

"I wish to take my leave of this bed." she whispered as she lay there looking into his eyes. "I wish to see outside."

"I cannot grant you this wish, Lady, for you are not that well." He looked down on her with sympathy. She turned her head and looked longingly out of the window that showed the village of Badon Hill. She breathed a sigh and turned back to him.

"Thank you," she said softly, "for all you are doing for me; for all you have done. I would truly be lost without you." Arthur did not speak at first, but only smiled down at her. She smiled at the floor and blushed a little.

"Do you remember Lancelot," Arthur asked her thoughtfully, taking a chair and seating himself next to her bed, "he was here to see you naught but two days ago." Gaia's eyes held a spark and her flush lightened.

"Yes." Her gaze did not move from the floor, and Arthur's smile faded as he began to look concerned.

"He spoke to you," Arthur goaded. "He asked you who had done this to you," he acknowledged her many bandages and bruises with a nod. "He told me this morning that your reply sounded, to him, much like 'Merlin'." Gaia's sparkling eyes faded to a dull brown and her eyes rose from the floor to meet his. They were cold and emotionless and Arthur could feel the pain that they so willingly showed.

"Yes." she whispered. Arthur was uncertain. He opened his mouth several times to ask her further, but was unsure. She managed a small smile at his righteousness, and spoke. "You are disconcerted, Arthur," she said in a hoarse tone, but she was happy enough that she could speak.

Arthur opened his mouth again, but did not know the words. Finally, he decided to be to the point. "Why," he whispered encouragingly.

"I betrayed him," she said slowly and uncertainly. She thought she would never get the words from her mouth. "He sent me to his best men; gave me to them. I was tortured and broken," she said bitterly, biting her lip at the memories. "They planned to digest my remains." Arthur looked away at the visual she had painted, complete and total disgust written on his face, he was beside himself in surprise and hatred at Merlin for doing such a thing to a clearly beautiful young woman. "To an extent, however, for Merlin told them, that a quick death was far too well for me. He told them to leave me to a slow, agonizing death." She coughed out the last few words as her throat began to sear with pain again. Arthur quickly gave her water, as seemed a routine to him, and offered it to her. She swallowed with fervor as she glanced at his face. He looked livid; almost like he wanted nothing more than to find Merlin and shoot him down.

"What did you do to receive this punishment," he asked, his normally soft and warm voice coated with malevolence and anger.

"I chose a different religion then that which he offers to his people." she said quietly, turning to look out the window again. From the bed, all she could see was the dark and clouded skies. Arthur continued to stare down at her with confusion.

"The Woads are pagans," he asked her curiously, a lingering hope inside him.

"Aye," she said over her mug of water, "and I chose Christianity." Arthur's heart soared at her words. To think he wanted nothing more than to make this woman a Christian, and she had been one all along. Tortured because of her beliefs, he thought of his knights and their disdain for Arthur's God.

"How does Merlin have right to tell his people what they can truly believe in," he asked finally, eyebrows raising slightly.

She sighed and looked away from the sky to his face. "He can do so," she said uncomfortably, "to his children."

Arthur's eyes went wide at her words. He had saved the daughter of his enemy. "You-"

"Arthur, Sir, please do not think lesser of me." she said pleadingly and he saw tears well in her eyes. "I cannot control my past. Merlin has many children," she added desperately, "I am not his only."

Arthur was quiet. His face was grim, and he walked rose from his seat, walking around the bed and to the window which he stared out of in silent outrage. He put a hand to his forehead and rested the other on the cold stone wall of the fortress. Finally, he spoke to her again, not removing his gaze. "You are the son of the man I have been in this hell fighting against for fourteen years." he said coldly, and Gaia began to feel the tears on her face. "How can I overlook this?"

"Would you have left me to die if you knew?" she asked through her tears. He turned his head slightly to look at her. He considered her words and lightened slightly.

"No." he said finally, and the shadow of a smile appeared on his face. 'My men will not take this news easily." he said with concern.

Gaia nodded in silent agreement. 'Merlin is not a father to me by choice, Arthur," she said truthfully. "It can not be up to me to choose my fate."

"I only fear that my men will find that hard to understand," he said, "mainly Lancelot. It takes much for him to trust someone, and I think he trusts you now." He decided to quickly change the topic of discussion. "Midsummer's Day will be upon us on the morrow," he said with a smile. "Perhaps you'll be able to come down to the pub for the celebration."

"I will tell him if you'd rather," she said quietly, knowing the pain Arthur was feeling. He smiled at her, walked to her bedside and kissed her forehead.

"I will be back soon." he walked out the door in preparation for the upraised voices and crude remarks that awaited him from his knights.

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_**A/N:** So, Guinevere has a sister! Not very original, I suppose, but it was kind of a shocker. Guinevere won't be in this story, of course, because at this time she's in Marius's dungeons. Hope you enjoyed it so far, thanks again for the reviews!_


	5. V

_**A/N:** All of you have been so sweet with your reviews and I can't thank you enough. In respone to some of your questions, __Gaia thanked Lancelot for coming to see her and making an attempt to be kind to an enemy. She was trying to show that she understood the reservations he had with her. Also, yes, Gaia is an original character. As for who Gaia will end up with, we'll have to wait and see..._

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The reaction of the knights was not what Arthur had anticipated. In stead of yelling and cursing, like they often did, the men just stared at Arthur in surprise. Lancelot did not look at Arthur with the disdain he had expected, but respect; possibly the most respect Arthur had ever seen in Lancelot's dark eyes. It was certain to Arthur that Lancelot had warmed up to this woman and almost taken a liking to her. Bors was the first to speak.

"The damned bastard," he said, remarkably softly, coming from Bors, "to torture his own kid."

"She is well, Arthur," asked Lancelot with concern in his voice.

"She _will_ be." Arthur said quietly. "She needs rest. She would certainly welcome visitors, however, if you choose to go see her."

Lancelot looked a little taken aback, but did not answer. It was evident to Arthur that seeing this woman made him uncomfortable, but he couldn't, for the life of him, understand why. He had clearly changed his opinion of her, however, since her arrival. He seemed to forgive her for the past she so unwillingly had, which was certainly a feat for him. He had spent the last fourteen years fighting against Woads and he had watched many of his fellow knights and good friends die at the hands of the wild blue creatures. His hatred for them was inevitable, Arthur knew this, but they all felt as livid towards them as Lancelot. They all had been fighting in this hell for fourteen years because of them. To welcome a woman of their world was, indeed, a difficult thing to do, but that she was so horribly treated by her people made it much easier for Arthur, and he began to think that Lancelot was feeling the same way.

"Well," came Gawain's soft voice in the quiet, "I think I speak for the rest of the men, Arthur, when I say that her past is of no consequence."

"How can you say that?" interrupted Galahad with an outraged expression. "She's not only a Woad, but the damned daughter of their leader!"

"And clearly she has been disowned." Gawain said, his voice rising to a yell, though his eyes were still smiling and lucid. "There will be no reason for her to return."

Dagonet now chimed in, "She has been jaded," he said swiftly, "and she has been hurt beyond her physical appearance. Her past was not of her choosing, Galahad, we must remember this." Bors was friends with each and every knight seated at the round table, but he relied totally and completely on Dagonet for guidance, and upon his words, he sank deep into his chair, relaxed and agreeing.

"Aye," he mumbled. "What hell can she show us, now, eh? She might even be useful in a fight if she ever gets off that bed."

Galahad's incredulous demeanor slowly disappeared from his face as he noticed his friends were slowly moving to the other side of this argument. He sat down in his chair and looked at the table with disgust, nodding his defeat.

Arthur stared around at his knights with surprise and happiness. They showed great loyalty when he expected foreboding and disdain. He made to go back to Gaia's chambers, but Lancelot grabbed his arm in protest. He turned weary eyes on his knight, and Lancelot spoke with kindness.

"Rest," he said quietly. "You need it as much as she does. Your emotions are drained from you. I will see to her." Arthur stared at Lancelot with a newfound respect and smiled despite his apprehension. He nodded his head and made for his own chambers.

It took Lancelot the entire day's time to work up the nerve to enter Gaia's bedroom. He stood outside her door, pacing nervously. His mind whirled with thoughts and emotions, and he was fearing for his heart. Never had he felt so intensely for a woman, and he wished that it had not been _this_ woman that he felt for. He pushed the emotions from him and entered the room quietly, and without knocking. He assumed she would be asleep and was, therefore, surprised to see her sitting up in her bed. She wore a pale green nightdress that flowed as the wind whipped through the open window. It was sleeveless, and her beaten arms were bandaged. Her hands, which were bruised, but not wrapped, were resting in her lap as she sat with her legs stretched out before her and her pillows propped up high. The vivid purple light from the dusk outside her window poured onto her and made her lucid in the darkening room. Her deep chocolate eyes darted to the door as he entered.

"Lancelot!" she said happily with less cracking in her voice. He stopped in his tracks and stared at her with bewilderment. She swallowed a few sips of water and looked at him brightly. Lancelot stuttered several times before getting his words out.

"H-how are you doing?" he ask pointlessly, for she was obviously feeling better. But how could she recover so quickly? Thoughts crossed into his mind of deceit, and he wondered if she had been faking some of her near-fatal illness. Perhaps Merlin had sent her to the knights in an attempt to distract them while the Woads pillaged and plundered all of Britain. She beamed at him and opened her mouth, but a cough came out. He rushed to her side and poured more water into her mug from a pitcher on a table not far from her. "You disillusion me, Lady." he said with a smile, his thoughts erasing themselves quickly.

"I am very well," she said through her coughs. "I assure you, Sir." She finally recovered her voice and looked into his dark eyes. "I suppose I pushed myself a bit."

"Only a bit," Lancelot said with a laugh as he pulled a chair up and sat next to her bed. He helped her to place her pillows back down flatly on the bed, and she laid down again. She turned her head to meet his eyes. "Arthur told me," Lancelot continued, "that you could only just speak early this morn."

Gaia let out a silent sigh and nodded her head. "Believe me, Sir, if you, too, were trapped in this room with only a hole in the wall to see the outside world, you would push your limits, as well." She noticed his eyes had become slightly cold, and immediately understood what she had said wrong. "Not that I am not grateful, of course," she added nervously, "for your courteous hospitality. Arthur is truly a good man to take in the child of an enemy."

"Your people are our enemy, Gaia," Lancelot said in a slightly stern tone, but his eyes became warmer at her words. "Not only your father."

Gaia lowered her gaze to the floor. "I understand this," she said as her cheeks reddened. "But I ask you not to judge me by my origin. They are not _my_ people."

"Oh, but they are!" Lancelot's face grew tired and annoyed at her ignorance. "You were born among them and are, therefore, one of them."

"My past is of no consequence." she said shortly, bringing her eyes back up to meet his. The two stared silently at each other with a shadow of disagreement. "If I could control my past," she said quietly, her eyes not moving from his, a look of coldness upon them, "then I would not have had anything to do with them, and I assure you that once I am well enough, should they give you reason for battle, I would draw a sword alongside you."

Lancelot had noticed the coldness towards him in her eyes and in her tone, and he was surprised at her last words. "Why do you say this?" he asked confusedly.

Her eyes warmed and she turned her head to stare at the canopy of her bed. "I know naught." she said after a moment. "I suppose I feel so indebted to your commander." She paused and then turned back to him. "And to you, as well."

Lancelot leaned back in his chair, placing his arms behind his head. He was clearly entertained by the turn of the conversation. He fixed her with a grin and goaded her to continue. "Really? Prey, tell." She was a bit taken aback by him, but continued.

"Well," she said slowly, "Arthur told me that your trust is not easily given out, and if you have trusted me thus far I will most certainly prove to you that I am worthy." She searched his face for a trace of anger at her mention of Arthur's words, but there was none. His expression had not changed from the smug one he held before she spoke.

"Is that all?" he asked with a smile. She felt her face flush. She was surprised by his attitude, and it was against her Christianity to promote such behavior.

"Yes." She smiled at him, almost sneering. He looked at the ground with mock-disconcert, and she could not help but laugh. "You are a rare personality, Lancelot." Her laughter died away slowly when he did not look up at her. He continued to stare at the ground in depression. "Dear Lord, what would you _like_ me to say, Sir?" She asked, exasperated.

His eyes lifted to hers and he smiled a wicked smile. She felt herself blush deeply from his indecency. She looked around the room, flustered, until he spoke, in which time her eyes flew back to him.

"I have never mixed with your kind-" he stopped short, then continued, "I mean, Woads, of course, excuse me." She smiled at his humor, but did not speak, so he went on. "I never met a Woad I did not kill, you know. It does me well to meet with a woman of their world."

"Have you ever met a _woman_ you did not _bed_?" she asked him nervously, her eyes leaving his again. She could see him smile widely from the corner of her eye, and her heart began to beat wildly. He rose from his chair and leaned down to kiss her softly. Her eyes widened at his forwardness, and she turned her head away from him, feeling her sore back hurt even more as she did so. He straightened and stared at her with raised eyebrows. He ran a finger lightly along her bruised hand, but his eyes stayed locked to her face, and she finally turned her head back to meet them. He looked lustful and intense, and it frightened her. She stared at him coldly, unnerved by his behavior, and surprised at herself for wanting him to continue. He saw her expression but was not abashed by it. In fact, his smile turned into a light laugh. He turned and slowly made his way to the door.

"You did not answer my question." Gaia said cautiously.

"I should think I did," he replied slyly, and closed the door, leaving a blushing Gaia to consider the events that just took place.

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_**A/N:** This was originally two shorter chapters, but I decided to combine them to make a longer one. Hope you all enjoyed. Next chapter is the Midsummer's Day celebration and, good news, our dark knight, Tristan will finally enter the picture! Yay! Thanks again for reviews!_


	6. VI

_**A/N:** I am so sorry I kept my dear readers waiting! And you were all so excited for Tristan to be coming up, that's awesome, I love your enthusiasm! I got a little fervid with the Midsummer's Day celebrations, so they got divided into two chapters. The second chapter is done, but I'll give you all some time to r/r with this one. Peace to my reviewers, you guys are amazing!_

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The next morning was the start of Midsummer's Day, and everyone was celebrating. The knights had been stuck on Badon Hill for fourteen years, yet their spirits soared every Midsummer's Day upon which they drank and partied, told stories of past battles, and wooed women. It was said that Bors had a child every Midsummer.

When Arthur awoke on this morning, he was surprised to see the clouds parting and small rays of sunshine pouring into his window. He welcomed the warmth on his face as he lay in his bed. It was well past dawn, and he did not seem to care. He relaxed for a moment before preparing himself for the day, dressing in his dark brown trousers and crisp white tunic. He walked to Gaia's room first, hoping for her recovery so that she might accompany him to the pub and converse with the knights. Galahad was still quietly uncertain about her, and Arthur hoped that upon speaking with the woman, he might see what Lancelot saw.

He knocked on the door and it was answered by Dr. Mancomn, who did not look surprised to see him. They nodded to each other, Arthur wished him a well morning, and then made his way to Gaia's bed.

She looked remarkably well; she had lots of color in her face and wore a beautiful morning gown that was a pale pink color. It contrasted well with her dark hair, which was braided back, though pieces that had been ripped to short lengths fell out of it unceremoniously. The pink in her gown brought out the pink in her cheeks and her lips, which curled into a smile when she saw him. She sat up with grace, though it took her time, and Macomn gave her a disapproving look.

"I stood this morning, Arthur," she said excitedly, but then she frowned as she continued, "Although, my wish is to join in the celebrations, and I am afraid that the doctor says I should not dare to walk to the pub." Arthur raised an eyebrow and turned to the doctor whose face was stony and set.

"What say you if I were to carry her?" Arthur smiled at the incredulous look on Mancomn's face.

"_Carry her_!" Mancomn almost laughed from the stupidity of the idea, but his humorous expression died away slowly when Arthur's face stayed unflinchingly. He seemed to consider it for a moment. "It is a fool's decision, but do what you wish," he said finally, and busied himself with bottles and gadgets.

"Good man," Arthur said cheerfully. He gently slid an arm behind Gaia's back, smiling at her charmingly. He then placed another arm under her legs and lifted her slowly off the bed. She wrapped her arms around his neck with caution for her bandages. As he walked out the door and down the hall, she relaxed a bit and began to feel very safe.

Her mind wondered as they walked in silence, and she thought of the day that Arthur had found her. She had been left on the outskirts of the woods just north of Hadrian's Wall for one day, though it seemed like a lifetime. She had been slipping from life, darkness taking over her, when she heard his voice speaking to someone. It was his scout, she knew that much, but she did not know his name. She had only heard his soft voice in the darkness as he spoke to Arthur, calling him over to see her limp form. She had caught a glimpse of him as Arthur carried her away, his dark hair all disheveled with small pieces braided to the side. He had high cheekbones and Sarmatian tattoos on his face, which was covered in filth and blood. She thought of his eyes, how easily one could get lost in them. She felt nervous excitement build inside her at the thought of finally meeting the dark knight and the rest of the entourage.

In what felt like no time, Gaia could see the open doors of the fortress and felt butterflies flutter in her stomach at the sight of nature. She beamed at the wonderful smell of the horses, wine, and women's perfume as they drew nearer to the pub. Upon entering, she saw a fire lit, despite the daylight and warmth from the few rays of sunshine that the heavy clouds allowed to pass through. The pub did not have a wooden roof: in stead it had hay to allow the warmth of the sunshine in. Arthur sat Gaia down carefully on a large wooden chair. It leaned back casually and she found herself feeling very comfortable. He then gave her a large wool blanket he had taken from her chambers and wrapped it around her.

There had been pandemonium before Arthur and Gaia entered the large pub. All of the knights spent most of their time here, and they were all here now. Galahad was wooing the women of Badon Hill with his targeting skills, Gawain was watching Galahad with enjoyment, occasionally criticizing him on his aim, Dagonet sat next to Gawain and talked with Bors who was drinking heavily already and occasionally kissed the wife of his children, Vanora. Lancelot sat with a woman in his lap, a drink in one hand, and the woman's fist in the other. He kissed her fervently, and she fought coyly, but had not intention of leaving her position. In a corner table was the scout. He sat quietly with a mug and watched the other knights with little interest. They all looked up when Arthur entered with the young Woad, and silence soon fell on the crowd. Gaia felt her cheeks flush at all of the staring eyes, but more so at the sight of Lancelot with the redheaded woman. He immediately released her, but she was not so willing to leave. He shook her off his lap and pushed her away unceremoniously, and Gaia knew he was just as devilish as he made himself seem, maybe more so.

"Do not be fear them," Arthur whispered as he placed the blanket on her. "They are harmless unless you provoke them." He winked at her and smiled widely, then sat down next to her and began introducing the knights. "Knights," he said loudly, though he already had their attention. "Some of you may have yet to meet our guest. Therefore, I give you Gaia of the house of Merlin." She winced at her father's name, but no one in the pub seemed to mind. Arthur then continued, "Gaia, you've already met Lancelot," and her cheeks grew redder as he winked at her, "The one with the knives is Galahad, and there is Gawain, Dagonet, and Bors. On Bors's lap is Vanora," who blushed and tried to stand, though Bors would not allow it, "and," Arthur paused as he looked around, "Ah, yes, the man in the back with the blank expression is Tristan." Everyone laughed except for Gaia and Tristan. She had noticed him before Arthur spoke, and he had noticed her as well. He sat with his elbows on the table holding his mug with both hands and she could just see his dark eyes over the rim of it. His disheveled hair fell to his shoulders, parts of it braided just like the day he had found her.

The knights were silent, and inclined their heads to Gaia, who smiled back. She sat quietly and stared into the fire, thankful for the warmth. Arthur left her in order to get them both a drink from the bar and Lancelot immediately took up Arthur's unoccupied seat, leaning back with carelessness as he folded his arms behind his head. Gaia did not look at him at once, but smiled and turned to the fire in the center of the room. She could feel the pressing gaze of Lancelot, and when she did not give in to it, he spoke softly to her.

"'morning, Lady," he said with charm, and Gaia finally turned her eyes upon him, one eyebrow raised slightly, surprised by his sudden abundance of manners.

"And to you, Sir," she replied, inclining her head to him. His manners were gone in a flash as he smiled that same haughty smile and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks at his indecency. He laughed aloud and drank from his mug with fervor.

"Have you missed me," he whispered, "and have you missed my lips?" She felt the urge to slap him across the face, but did not think she should make a scene. He had, after all, taken the courtesy of lowering his voice. Her thoughts were dashed, however, when he reached a finger to trace her high cheekbone. Her eyes narrowed into small brown slits as she spoke to him through gritted teeth.

"Sir Lancelot, I may be of the savage people of the wood, but, unfortunately for you, I have boundaries. You, Sir, have crossed them by a stretch." His finger dropped to his mug and his smile slowly faded to a smirk, though it was still as conceited and knowing as it had been before, not unlike a watered-down version of the former. Dagonet came and sat next to Lancelot, and she hoped he would not mention anything else of the previous night's events. Unfortunately, he did.

"Well," he continued, ignoring Dagonet's company, "I have missed you." Dagonet pretended not to hear the conversation, or so Gaia assumed. She was now annoyed at him and her narrow eyes narrowed further.

"You fantasize," was all she could say. When Lancelot was silent, still smirking, and eyeing her wickedly, she looked around the room gaily and whispered to him coldly. "My face and my figure are provocations to you, Lancelot, but my sword to your throat you will not so much enjoy, I assure you. And I swear in the name of my Lord and Savior that if you should further your indecency, I will be forced to take dramatic action."

"Tell me," Lancelot said heartily as Arthur returned with a mug for Gaia and himself and she felt the relief of Arthur sitting on the side of her opposite Lancelot, "do you follow the beliefs of your fathers, or are you, like our commander, a Believer of the One.." He smirked at Arthur who turned a sorrowful glance at him in return.

"I am Christian," replied Gaia. She smiled inwardly as Lancelot's smug smile finally disappeared.

"Merlin's people are atheistic, are they not," asked Dagonet, now joining in the conversation.

"I chose not to follow my father's example of paganism." She stared at the mug in her hands which held an ale that tasted sweet to her. "I discern from your disdained expression, Sir Lancelot that you are not a Believer," she asked the frowning knight. He looked disgusted when he replied.

"We are all pagans here," he motioned to the rest of the knights.

"Your religion is of no consequence," she said with a wave of her hand. "I shall not form prejudice if you do the same," she added with a smile.

"Oh, believe me," Lancelot said, the shadow of his infamous mischievous smile appearing on his face, "I will not be the one to judge. Unless you provoke me." His smile appeared fully, now, and Gaia found sudden entertainment in watching the other knights around the pub, mainly Tristan who was now slicing an apple unceremoniously with a kinfe.

The day went by quickly as Gaia drank and talked with the knights. By noon, she felt as if she had known them forever, save, of course, for Tristan. He had not spoken much and when he did, he did not speak to Gaia directly. Galahad had not totally forgiven her of her origin and had not spoken to her, either. Lancelot had heeded her warnings and not mentioned the previous night or the kiss they shared, though he still made her feel uncomfortable with little winks and smiles every now and then. His entire demeanor seemed haughty all of the time, and it surprised Gaia that he was not exhausted by it.

The day wore on and the knights lessened their drinking during the afternoon. It was mid-afternoon when Arthur and Gaia had a moment alone. Lancelot and Gawain were practicing their skills at sword fighting, and most were walking around along the bar, watching. Gawain gave a sharp thrust with his sword, but Lancelot parried, and knocked Gawain's sword loose. Everyone, including Gaia, laughed, and Lancelot turned to her and bowed with a wink. Her smile faded quickly, but she regained countenance when she saw that no one looked surprised by Lancelot's behavior. Arthur had his arm around Gaia's chair, comfortably, and he watched the event with eagerness. Tristan was walking around behind the crowd studying the battle intently. Gaia noticed him and turned to Arthur.

"Your scout," she inquired, "he is a quiet man."

Arthur nodded with his eyes still on the fight. "Tristan. He is as bloodthirsty as they come. Killing is an art to him, and though I do not like the thought of a man maiming for the enjoyment of it, killing is in him."

Gaia was silent as she studied Tristan's features. His dark complexion was weathered with battle. He was beautiful in his own way. He could sense the eyes of someone upon him and immediately turned to her. She immediately looked into the fire, ignoring his gaze. His eyes were unconcerned as he looked upon her. She was entranced by them, and found it difficult to fight the urge to stare. She slowly became comfortable with his gaze and just as she did, he must have sensed it, for he turned and continued to watch the fight. She watched the fight as well, and was surprised when she saw him walking towards her from the corner of her eye. She felt her cheeks grow red and cursed her pale complexion for making it look so obvious. He walked over and sat down next to her in silence. He stole a glance at her every now and then, but she kept her face on Lancelot and his partners.

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_**A/N:** I ask all of you good people not to fear, for there will actually be dialogue with Tristan in the next chapter. I thought I'd test my writing skills at describing the knight first and, in doing so, dwell a bit on the mysteriousness of him. Hope that has been acomplished. Let me know!_


	7. VII

_**A/N:** A bigthank youto everyone who reviewed and aspecial thanksto Ms Genova for saying she lovesGaia! You made my day! I won't banter - on with the highly anticipated (exaggerat? me?) seventh chapter! Enjoy!_

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Gaia sat in silence, starring at the two men who fought with fervor, though only for humor. They were indeed skilled, she noted, as she watched Lancelot's grace and haste. She had not seen such skill before, certainly not by the Woads she was raised around. They were, indeed, skilled, she thought, but had no formal training; only the bloodlust of a barbarian, for that is what they were; barbarians. She winced inwardly at the thought of the people that were her own, the way they treated prisoners. They would never have taken in a Sarmatian or Roman with the fervor and warmth that Arthur and his knights had, though some were undoubtedly still apprehensive of her, Galahad still having kept his distance from her. She had met with Bors and with Dagonet and Gawain, and Tristan had obviously noticed her, but he had not spoken a word. He still sat next to her, glancing over discreetly now and again. No, indeed, her people would not show the passion nor would they give the welcome that these fine men had given to her. Her people - no, she would not condescend to the term 'her people' - the Woads were bound to Hell's deepest core, and there was nothing she could do for them. Only Merlin had the power to change this. As Gaia's mind wandered, she noticed Arthur was looking at her with apprehension. Clearly, something had discomforted him and she knew he was thinking of speaking to her. She had only to encourage him. 

"You are unhappy," she goaded Arthur, ignoring Tristan's gaze as he looked at her again. It took Arthur a moment to speak; it seemed like he couldn't find the words.

"When I was at the bar, I watched you with Lancelot..." his voiced trailed off for a moment when he saw her expression fall. "What was ill between you?"

Gaia took a deep breath and gave him a sweet smile before she spoke. "He was forward, Sir Arthur. Nothing more."

"He is certainly taken with you." Arthur searched her face for a sign of admiration of Lancelot, but she forbade herself to show it.

"I know naught of Sir Lancelot, but I know his kind," she said slowly, turning her eyes to watch the two men fight. "He is not easily taken with women. He prefers to take _them_ than be taken _by_ them." Her voice was coated with disagreement.

"You know him well," came Tristan's voice next to her. She jumped when she heard his soft rumbling voice and nervously turned her eyes to him. His dark eyes scanned her face with expressionless curiosity and she found herself looking over his shoulder rather than at him directly, intimidated by his beautiful eyes. Arthur laughed lightly at Tristan, but still gazed at Gaia intently.

"He thinks me a challenge, as I am, most certainly, the only woman in this fortress he has yet to bed," she said with a sigh and she looked into her empty mug. Tristan was entertained by this comment.

"A provocation, no doubt," he said with the shadow of a laugh. "What makes you think this?"

"He has made it known," she mutter with disdain as she glared at her mug, but her eyes widened in seconds at her bluntness; she had not planned on voicing the events of that night. She saw Tristan glance sternly at Lancelot who waved as he preformed a remarkable counter-attack to Gawain and then turned to parry a blow from Galahad, who had joined in the fight. Gaia sighed and put her head in the hand that was not holding the mug.

"He did no harm," she assured Arthur as he looked at her with wide eyes. "I'm sure he meant no ill," she added passively with a careless wave of her hand, trying to calm Arthur's seemingly overwhelmed expression.

"Doubt that," muttered Tristan, his eyes now on the battle. "He's always been the one with a new woman every night. It's a miracle he doesn't have as many children as Bors."

Arthur sighed. "Lancelot does not know his limitations." His voice was full of apology and concern. She turned and gave him a carefree smile.

"He knows his limitations, Arthur," she said with a laugh, "he only pushes them, as any man would do who has been kept in a fortress and seen naught but battle and the same bar wenches for fourteen years. But I can promise you that he will not do as he wishes with me. He has been with bar maidens, but I doubt a female warrior has ever crossed his path."

Arthur smiled at her keen response, and looked to Tristan who gave him a comforting look and turned to the battle with curious eyes.

* * *

The knights continued battling for some time, and finally, they grew tired. They ordered more drinks, having worked off their drunkenness from the morning. It was now dusk and the sun set quickly. Many people started to drift out of the tavern, into the square where a campfire was set up. Gaia noticed Arthur in a corner talking to Lancelot and she grew nervous. She attempted to stand. As she put pressure on her feet she could feel the searing pain of her sprained muscles in her calves, and fell back onto the chair. She sighed desperately and tried again. The pain was too much, and she fell back, but this time a hand grabbed her and held her steady. She looked up to see the eyes of Tristan. His face was grim and set, but his eyes warmed a bit. 

"Don't get ahead of yourself," he said quietly. His speech was a bit slurred, but his grip on her arm was strong. She smiled at him, nervousness fluttering in her stomach.

"I only wish to see the sky," she explained hastily.

"Let me help you."

Tristan held her arm in his and her blanket, along with his mug, in the other hand. She began to stand and leaned onto him for support. There was certainly soreness, but with the pressure on Tristan's strong arm, the searing pain subsided. She took a step and laughed out loud. She looked at him and beamed, forgetting his intimidating eyes. She took another step. Though it was painful, the joy of overcoming it was greater. She laughed out loud again, and a tear fell from her eye. She knew it was from the pain, but she did not care. He helped her to lay gently on the grass by the fire and she felt him lay down beside her, which made her nervous, but she welcomed the company.

"You do not speak often, Sir Tristan," she said finally as they gazed up at the stars. The clouds had fled, and everyone was out to see the constellations on this rare occasion. She heard Tristan sigh quietly.

"I've learned to be lonely," he said with a hint of sadness in his tone. He laid with his hands behind his head, though, looking carefree despite his fiery eyes. He then turned the conversation around completely. "You are a Woad," he questioned her quietly.

"I was born among them, Sir Tristan, but I do not follow their ways." She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as he turned to look at her, and his eyes wondering slyly over her slim figure. The knights were all much like lust-hungry sailors who had seen fourteen years of unruly waves and not a single woman to match.

"You say you are a Christian," he continued to question her, his eyes still working madly. "Your father allowed that decision until now?"

"He did not know," Gaia said slowly. "I hid it from him."

"I thought it was the custom of Christians to hide nothing." His eyes grew more intense as they rested on her face. Gaia blushed in such obviousness, that Tristan nearly smiled. He decided to drop the subject, and he lifted his arm and pointed to the brightest star in he sky. "It's remarkably, how beautiful such things are to eyes that rarely behold them."

Gaia smiled at his words, and nodded to the star he had acknowledged. "Rigel," she said cheerfully. "It is the brightest star in the whole of Orion, its constellation." Tristan turned his head to look at her with surprise. He silently willed her to continue. "The one just there," she obeyed, pointing to an equally bright star, "is the supergiant _Alpha Orionis_."

Tristan was still staring at her with surprise. "Supergiant?" He sounded curious, so she continued.

"A supergiant is an incredibly bright star large in diameter and rather low density."

Tristan was silent. "How do you know so much?" He spoke finally. His voice was like music, and she wished he would speak forever.

"The stars have always been my ceiling," she said, bittersweet memories awakening in her. "Though Merlin thought it superfluous, I knew that knowing each and every one, along with its place in the vastness of the sky, would become of use to me."

"I must say you're entrancing me, and I've only just arrived," said a soft voice beside her, and she turned her head to see Arthur sit next to her. She smiled at him as he lay down staring up at the stars. She glanced around discreetly for Lancelot but did not see him. "Please continue," Arthur pleaded. He reached a hand across Gaia to point to a bright star further east. "What is that one?" Tristan looked upon it with curiosity.

"Procyon." she said quickly. "Part of the constellation of _Canis Minor_ or Little Dog. Just east of Orion, of course."

She noticed that Arthur was staring at her, and she also felt the pressing gaze of Tristan. She did not look at either, but continued to stare at the binaries in the heavens with confidence.

"You would make a good scout," Tristan commented, and Arthur nodded silently.

"Thank you," Gaia said with surprise. She opened her mouth to tell the men that she had, in fact, worked as a scout for her father before he discovered her religion, but thought better of mentioning her father. At that moment, Bors caught Arthur's attention and he turned on his side to speak with him, his back to Gaia and Tristan. Tristan still lay on his side staring content at Gaia.

"Your name is that of the Grecian goddess," he said finally, "were you named for her?" Gaia smiled and managed to look into his intimidating eyes.

"I say a 'yes'," she said with a smile, "but at the same time, I say a large, contrasting and resounding 'no'." When his beautiful, emotionless eyes sparkled with the shadow of curiosity, she explained. "Gaia was the name of my grandmother's grandmother.She wasthe first of my line to mend her atheist ways and become a devoted Christian. My mother, Rhea, named me for her, though she told Merlin that her decision was based wholly on the purpose of worshiping the goddess. She explained to me over the years, told me off the Christian ways and her ancestor of the same name, helping me to become a strong Believer." Gaia paused for a moment and was lost in a throng of bittersweet memories. "Serves me well, it does, for I have never, until your kind commander took me in, set my self inside a fortress, sleeping always in trees and never once on a bed. I am truly one with the earth."

"It is a beautiful name," he said softly and Gaia beamed at his kind words. She was beginning to feel comfortable around him when, to her surprise, he slowly rose. He stood, smiling at her, for a moment and she could see that he was considering giving her a kiss. She smiled back invitingly, but the spark was broken when Arthur turned from Bors back to Gaia and Tristan with a carefree smile. Tristan nodded to his commander and was gone in a beat.

"Has your day been well," he asked happily, not knowing what had just ensued while his back was turned. She smiled at him despite the pains of having to forego a beautiful moment with the dark and mysterious scout.

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_**A/N:** The end of this chapter was tough because I can't see Tristan doing something so forward as kissing Gaia when he's only just met her, so I thought I'd just imply his thinking of it. He's a challengeto write because he's so quiet in the movie that you can't truly see the man behind the mystery. All the more entrancing, though. Anyway, there is action in the distance, finally! I'm anxious to see what you all think of my war-writing ability! Also,I appologize for any inacurracies when I wrote about the binaries. I just took a stab in the dark. Hope it worked!_


	8. VIII

_**A/N:** 42 reviews! You guys are incredible! Thank you! I'm glad you all liked my portrayal of Tristan - I was a little nervous about writing him. I'm getting pretty confident in my wiriting, now, though, thanks to allyour wonderful words! As to the question of the people of the dark ages being learned in astronomy, I'm not really sure. I read somewhere that the Arabs discovered a lot in that age, but I don't know about Gaia's people. I thought about that as I wrote, but I felt like it showed her brains a little more, and since she's lived in the wild her whole life, I wanted to make her seem knowledgeable in that area. Anyway, enough talk, on with the story!

* * *

_

The forest was dark as Gaia's eyes fluttered open. She was standing deep within it, and was not surprised to see the surroundings. She stood well on her own, and felt no pain. She was dressed in the clothes of a Woad paladin, and her left hand held a large bow. She had a quiver of arrows tied to her back, and with her right hand she grabbed for an arrow and fixed it on the bow, holding it low and discreet. The man that stood ten meters away from her was wearing a long blue cloak and eyed her with malevolence. She did not squirm, as most did under his livid stare, but aimed her arrow directly at him.

"Go on, Daughter," said Merlin with contempt, "shot me with an arrow. Show me your skills in archery. Peirce my skin and shower my pagan blood upon this land."

Gaia lowed her bow and stared at him in silence. Her eyes had not given in, and still stared directly into his, his blue contrasting with her brown.

"You fear," he continued, his cold voice sounding through the forest like hail on stone, "you fear to spill my blood. You would bless this ground. Give in to your feelings."

"I will never give in to anything," she said through gritted teeth, aiming her arrow again. "With God as my witness, you will pay for the innocent blood you have spilt. You will pay for the slaying of Christians, which you so willingly allow. I will have my vengeance."

"I grow weary of your ignorance, Child," said Merlin, and with a wave of his hand, her arrows flew to him. She was left standing with only her bow and a small dagger in her boot. "And now you will die for the threats you have so stupidly offered me. It is only ill that you did not die on my first attempt." He waved his hand again and she felt herself go numb for a moment. Then, without warning, she felt a searing pain in her legs, and she fell to the ground, clutching her calves wildly, screaming in agony. It felt as though someone held hot coals to her feet, and another held a dagger in each of her legs. She was blinded by the pain, and the darkness turned white as she slipped from life, slowly. Her screams continued, and she only hoped someone would hear; someone would save her from this hell.

The pain stopped. Her legs throbbed, but the excruciating pain ceased. She willed herself to open her eyes and she saw her father looking down on her. He smiled and waved his hand again. The pain started again, but this time her stomach gave in as well, and she found herself rolling around, flailing wildly, screaming louder than she ever thought possible. Darkness would take her soon, she could feel it's cold breath upon her. For no reason at all, she screamed out Arthur's name, and the pain slowly faded, though she still flailed and screamed with all her might. A lingering soreness was left in her body.

"Gaia!" a voice cried from the darkness. She reached up and felt the arms of a man, and she grabbed for them in her fear. She felt him pull her up and hold her tightly. The pain was gone, and she slowly opened her eyes to see her bedroom.

"It was a dream, Gaia," whispered Lancelot in her ear as he held her tightly, sitting on her bed. She grabbed his tunic and vowed never to let it go. She could still see the fire in her father's eyes as he promised to kill her. "It was only in your mind."

"Thank God for you, Lancelot," Gaia whispered through the waterfall of tears and the heavy breathing she issued.

"I will let no one harm you, Lady," he whispered back to her. They embraced for a long moment before he willed her to release his tunic from her grasp and pulled away to see her face. He placed his hands on her cheeks and wiped away her tears with his thumbs, then kissed where they had been. "It was naught but a vision," he repeated soothingly.

She heard footsteps coming up the hall hastily and Arthur rushed through the open doorway, sword in hand. His eyes looked weary and his hair was disheveled. Behind him came Mancomn and Bishop Germanus, who was followed closely by his secretary, Horton. The latter two were in their bed robes and nightcaps while Arthur and Doctor Mancomn were still dressed for the day. Arthur stopped in his tracks when he saw Lancelot seated on the bed. Clearly, his first thought was that Lancelot, being the rogue he was, had forced himself upon her. His thoughts were discarded, however, when he saw the worried look on Lancelot's face. He dropped his sword and ran to Gaia, taking her hand. Lancelot had removed himself from her embrace and stood.

Arthur did not speak, but only stared at her with loving eyes, awaiting her explanation. She opened her mouth, but at that time, Bors and Galahad came fumbling in, swords in hand, looking quite drunk, but willing to fight, nonetheless. Gawain and Dagonet appeared behind them shortly.

"Gang's all here," said Lancelot with a chuckle. "Except Tristan..."

Gaia looked around the room for the man, but in vain. She returned her gaze to Arthur, who still stared at her with loving ambition. He clearly wanted to know what ill had been done to her so that he might bring pain to they who caused it. Finally, she managed to smile.

"Breath freely, dear Sir," she said placing a hand on his cheek, and he brought his hand up to rest upon hers. "I am well. This will sound very interesting to your unknowing ears," she added, glancing around the rest of the room, and back to Arthur who kissed her hand with adoration, but lust was in his eyes, and it took Gaia by surprise.

* * *

The candles were burning lucid in the quarters as the knights, Doctor Mancomn, Bishop Germanus, Horton, and Gaia entered. Tristan was still nowhere to be seen. Arthur had been holding Gaia's arm, gently, helping her to walk, and they entered in silence. He sat her down in a chair and poured water from a pitcher into a mug before handing it to her. She took it willingly, and sipped for a moment before discreetly steeling a glance at the others. Bors sat in silence with his head in his hands, Dagonet sat near him with a mug in hand, Galahad sat relaxed in a chair with his feet crossed on the table and his hands behind his head, Gawain stood with his hands on the back of an empty chair, leaning on it. Her gaze continued to Horton who stood behind his master who was seated gracefully a few seats away from her, and to the doctor who was standing near her, watching with concern. Her eyes made their way to Arthur, who was standing at the head of the room, pacing. She noticed a man standing behind her and lifted her eyes upwards to see the kind face of Lancelot, his hands placed on the back of her chair. He smiled down at her and ran his index finger of his right hand along her shoulder. This could easily be mistaken for forwardness, but she knew he was trying his best to be respectful and charming, though God only knew why. He must have felt for her after the event.

All eyes were on her, waiting. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened her eyes sharply and prepared to speak.

"It was a dream she had, Arthur," came Lancelot's voice as he looked from his commander to the open-mouthed young woman seated in front of him. "I was walking down the hall when I heard her scream. When I ran into her room, she was thrashing about; flailing.'

Arthur spoke his only thought. "What did you see," he asked Gaia, his eyes baring into her soul.

"I saw my father," she said quietly, glancing at the faces around her and trying to read the expressions, but in vain.

"What did he say," Arthur goaded. She felt the tears well in her eyes at the memories, but a goading look from Arthur made her continue.

"He vowed to kill me," she said wearily, "he planned for me to die then; there. I was in the forest with a bow and arrow aimed at him. He tortured me and made to remove my legs." The knights made several yells and scoffs, and she heard the whimper of Horton the Secretary. She looked, again, at Arthur whose eyes had widened greatly.

"He made to..."

"Relieve me of my legs, yes," Gaia continued irritably, as if she was surprised that the knights had never heard of such a thing. "And then he made to kill me entirely, deforming my innards grotesquely.' Horton the Secretary let loose a squeal of fright.

"Shut up," Bors growled at him, and he cowered back.

Arthur shot Bors a look, and he returned his head to his hands. Arthur's eyes then traveled back to Gaia. "And you woke?"

"Yes," she said uncertainly. "Although I did not awake on my own, I do not know what would have ensued, had Merlin kept on."

Arthur's head stayed put; nothing about him moved, except his eyes which shifted up to Lancelot. He decided not to question the knight's motive for being so near to the young woman's room, and returned his gaze to Gaia. "I suppose," he said finally, "that you often have these sorts of dreams?"

"Not at all," Gaia responded promptly, "I daresay I never have. I think of it not as a dream," she said glancing put the window and wondering where the dark scout how gone to, "but as Merlin's way of conversing with me; only in stead of conversation, he planned on death."

"Your-" Gawain stopped himself short, thinking better of his words and reiterated them. "Merlin," he began again, "he can control ones thoughts?"

"Only in sleep," Gaia said attentively. "For, in your dreams you do not control your mind so well as you do in the wake. He takes advantage of this. Though," she added thoughtfully, "he has not practiced such skill since ere I was born."

"Though he seems to have had enough practice to attempt to slaughter you," Dagonet said sternly, loathing and hatred coating his voice as he spoke.

"Not so, Sir Dagonet," answered she, "for in preforming a _mírë_," and her tongue swiftly wove as she uttered the language of her people, "the one to die would not have made any movements in life. I would not have called out or been thrashing so fervently in my bed, had he administered the curse in the correct way."

"A _mírë,_" Dagonet reiterated confusedly.

"Indeed," she replied with the shadow of a smile on her face. To know something this man did not was a feat. "The curse of wizards that is preformed in the mind of a dreamer, most often to kill them or threaten them. Woads call it a _mírë_ because it means 'magic death' in their tongue."

Dagonet nodded curtly in understanding. "I think I've heard of it. Like voodoo without the doll." Gaia nodded swiftly at his description.

"What will you do," came Gawain's soft voice. "Will you never sleep again?"

"I feel that way," said Gaia, drawing her robe tighter around her.

Arthur looked at her with concern. He wanted to help her, but how to fight such a force, he did not know how. It was at this exact moment that Tristan entered the room, and Gaia could see he was gasping from breath though he tried to hide it, and she felt her stomach lurch when his eyes rested on her, passion and energy flashing in them.

"Woads," he said quickly, turning his eyes to Arthur, "south of the wall. They'll be upon us shortly."

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_**A/N:** Tada! Hope you liked it. The whole "mírë" thing was my own creation, I don't know if it actually meant anything in the Woads' language. I wanted Lancelot to redeem himself after the whole scene in the pub and I thought the dream was the "opertune moment". Thanks for reading and all the reviews!_


	9. IX

_**A/N:** Sorry about the lack of updates! This is a shorter chapter, I think, but I'm anxious to see what you all think, so I'll get right down to it!_

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The knights rose swiftly and prepared to battle, dressing quickly in all sorts of armor, talking intently of the coincidence of the nightmare and the attack. Arthur was in silent thought as he attached his crimson cape and sheathed his father's sword, Excaliber. Lancelot came to him with a thoughtful and worried expression similar to Arthur's own.

"She called out for you, Arthur," he said solemnly. "She has entrusted you with her life."

"I was the last person she saw, Lancelot," Arthur replied automatically, "that was all." Truthfully, however, the same thought had entered Arthur's mind earlier. He had heard Gaia cry out his name, and he wondered what made her do it; why she picked him.

"You think that Merlin was warning her not to fight with us on this night?" he asked seriously, deciding to change the subject to a less personal topic. Arthur was surprise to see Lancelot's face look malevolent, his eyes holding malice towards the wizard of mention.

"She could not fight," Arthur replied, "though, yes, my mind was fighting that thought."

"What makes you say she can't fight?" Lancelot asked curiously.

"She is ill," said Arthur, "she would not last."

* * *

The sky was black with darkness as the knight's made their way into the barn to saddle their horses. It was well past midnight, and they would be fighting well into the dawn. It was a shock to all to see Gaia standing in the barn with a bow in her hand and a quiver upon her back, a small cutlass sheathed on her belt. The knights stared at her incredulously and Lancelot and Arthur exchanged nervous glances.

"Not on your life, Kid," roared Bors as he went swiftly to his horse with a saddle.

"Come now, Bors," Gaia cried as the knights busied themselves with their horses and ignored her presence, "Isn't it obvious? My father foresaw the battle and he foresaw me fighting. I need to be out there."

"Not on your life," was all Bors muttered as he heaved himself onto his stallion. Then, before he rode out he stopped at her side, starring down at her keenly. "A couple of these knights have taken to you," he whispered soberly. "You need to give Lancelot and Tristan something to come back to." Gaia's eyes widened at Bors's words and had no time to question him, as he rode off quickly. Her thoughts dwelled on the one evening she had spent with Tristan and wondered how the normally-drunken knight could have noticed any feeling that ensued from Tristan, but she was more surprised at the thought of Tristan actually feeling for her at all. She was snapped from her reverie by Arthur's voice and was suddenly aware of his horse at her side.

He shot her a look of fear and apprehension. "Do nothing, Gaia. Stay here."

"I _will_ ride with you and draw my sword, Arthur! I will repay you for the things you have done for me."

"You can repay me greatly by staying safe," he said, looking down upon her with sadness. Without another word he spurred his horse into a canter and flew out of the barn door. The knights followed, all of them acknowledging her as they left, but none willing to take her as a burden. She watched as they rode without her. Lancelot rode by last, and he only smiled down at her as he rode. She nearly screamed at a hand on her shoulder and she turned to see Tristan standing on the ground with a liverchestnut stallion's reins in hand.

"Let us see your skills in archery," he said quickly, his eyes glinting with bloodlust, "the Woads come from the east, and we ride to meet them. Go to the parapets of the wall, fire from there. The battle will be close." She nodded to him as he threw himself onto his horse.

"Finally, a sensible man," she said lightly, smiling as he gathered his reins. He gave her the closest thing to a grin that she had seen which took her totally by surprise, but it returned, slowly, to a frown.

"Gaia," he said slowly, and she felt her knees weaken as he spoke her name, "these people need to be kept safe. Remember that, should the worst happen." He was gone in a flash, a beautiful hawk trailing him as he went. She stared after him for a moment, Bors's words flowing through her mind, but then ran for the wall. She ignored the burning in her legs and back as her muscles strained. Upon reaching the top of the wall, she knelt down and readied an arrow in her bow. She took in the scene with interest. The wall of the fortress circled around the small town before connecting to the large line that was Hadrian's Wall. The fortress walls were lit with large torches which made the earth lucid. Seven knights road out of the east gate and towards a legion of Woads north of the fortress. Gaia watched with keen eyes as Arthur called for a "Dragon formation" and the knights began to steer their horses around knowingly. Galahad and Lancelot moved just behind Arthur, flanking him and creating the "eyes" of the dragon while Dagonet and Gawain fanned out behind their fellow knights and creating the "stomach". Finally, Bors and Tristan formed the "tail"

As they drew near, Arthur could see the hideous Woads stained in blue dye and wielding their small swords. As they galloped to the group, Lancelot dropped his reins and reached both hands over his shoulders pulling out two twin swords. He gripped his horse with his calves, applying pressure to steer, and readying himself for battle. Bors was hollering madly and had his sword in hand. Tristan followed Lancelot's way and rode with his legs, loading an arrow into his lethal bow and firing it at a Woad scout hidden in a tree.

Back at the fort, Gaia aimed an arrow at a small blue something she could just see through the trees. She poised the bow slowly, taking her time, aiming it directly at the center of the warrior. She pulled the arrow back and released it with a gasp as her shoulder burned. The arrow flew for several meters before slamming into the forehead of a Woad archer. She looked on with satisfaction as the man fell from the trees, dead before he hit the ground. She did not feel sorry for killing her own people: death to the enemy was inevitable, and Woads were now her enemy. She loaded another arrow and aimed it at another blue spot in a tree. When she saw a hawk fly past her, she followed the it with her bow, not aiming, but watching in awe at the beautiful creature's grace. She saw him flying towards a man on a horse and instantly recognized him as Tristan. It was then that she noticed Tristan was being bombarded by Woads from every direction. The dragon formation had been broken as the knights rode into the legion, some dismounting while others managed to ride through the mass of blue creatures. She was too far away to hit one with her arrow, but she remembered Merlin's words and she knew that he was trying to prevent her from being there for a reason. She noticed the blue man in the trees again and saw him aim an arrow at Tristan. She almost laughed aloud as she hit him with an arrow in a matter of seconds, saving Tristan from an incredible death and he hadn't even known it. She smiled to herself, vowing to keep it a secret.

Lancelot steered his horse through the forest of Woads, wielding his twin blades with expert precision. He severed the head of a blue creature before stabbing another in the throat. He glanced to Arthur who was fighting a distance away. Dagonet was off his horse, which had began kicking at Woads here and there, and he wielded his axe with grace. Galahad was a powerhouse with his sword, killing any he saw, and Gawain took his axe to a creature's head in seconds. Tristan was skilled in archery, but was also a fantastic swordsman, and he found himself on the ground before long, unsheathing his curved Sarmatian blade and felling three Woads in seconds. The battle wore on and the knights fought with fervor. By daybreak, the remaining Woads had fled back into the forest, making their way back northwest and over the wall. Lancelot pulled his sword from the stomach of a Woad and looked around at the ground that was now littered with fresh blood and blue corpses. He looked back to the fort to see Gaia at the wall, waving her hand passionately, assuring them of her safety. He smiled as Bors let out a riotous bellow to the girl and banged his chest like an ape. He screamed his Sarmatian war cry, and everyone glanced at the fortress wall in shock as the girl standing on the parapets thrust her bow into the air and return the cry.

Gaia stared in amazement at the scene below her. What truly caught her attention was Tristan's fighting skills. He did not meet a Woad he did not kill, and most who saw his face never had the time to see any other sight again. With his arrow, he was superb, indeed, but with his sword he was an absolute killing machine. She fired several shots and fell a slew of Woads as they ran to the forest, hoping against hope to live. She jumped down from the parapets happily and walked to the bottom of the gate as it opened, awaiting the arrival of the knights.

Bors let out a hearty laugh at the girl's spunk, and it soon spread to the others as they watched their new recruit firing arrows at an unusually fast pace, felling a Woad with nearly every arrow. The knights nodded to each other in affirmation before the dismounted mounted and they cantered back to the fortress.

Gawain came in through the east gate first, and he dismounted quickly. He smiled at Gaia and swept her up by the waist, spinning her around and startling not only her, but his grey stallion as well. She laughed aloud as he spun her around, putting her arms on his shoulders for support. His long blonde locks flew as he twirled, lifting her like she was a small child, the weight of a feather. He placed her on the ground and looked at her keenly.

"Your skills, Lady," he said through his laughter, "are not bad."

The other knights had walked in and were laughing as well. They were all covered in blood except for Gaia. Though, after Gawain's embrace, she was not nearly as clean as she was. She ignored the burning in her muscles and bathed in the comfort of the knights. She caught Tristan's eye and he gave her a smile and a nod. Finally, she knew where she belonged.

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_**A/N:** There we go! The first real piece of action in the fic. I'm sure my description of the fort/wall doesn't coincide perfectly with that of the movie; you really have to use your imagination and take a step away from the film to see it my way. Anyway, thanks soooo much for all the reviews - keep 'em coming!_


	10. X

_**A/N:** 52 reviews, guys! Thanks so much! In response to ZELINA's question, Gaia "knew where she belonged" physically as opposed to romantically. She knew she belonged with the knights, fighting alongside them and whatnot. As far as where she belongs romantically, I don't foresee a specific knight, yet, but Gaia will be doing a little "thinking" in this chapter. Thanks so much for the review ;-) Anyway, the reason for Merlin to try and kill Gaia was sort of hidden in the last chapter...ready to find out what it was? Here we go, then!_

* * *

Grey covered Badon Hill as the ground was littered with snow and the sky covered with clouds. Never had Gaia seen her land in this light before. From the forest north of Hadrian's Wall, she had seen summer after summer, but the days were long and luxurious and the trees presented plenty of warmth and oxygen. This was like hell, she thought as she stared out the window from the round table at which she was seated. It was a grey hell. It was just after dawn as Arthur paced as he always did, walking occasionally in front of the window and throwing off Gaia's daydreams. Lancelot sat to Gaia's left with his head in his hands, his eyes staring up through his fingers at Arthur. To Gaia's right and over a few seats sat Gawain with weary eyes that stared at the table. He looked almost like he was sleeping with his eyes opened and Gaia restrained herself from waving a hand in front of his face. Galahad stood near Gawain, sharpening his twin knives with fervor. Bors was sitting a few seats from Gawain with a large mug of beer, not bothering to pay attention to any of the knights, and only drinking his celebration of a glorious victory. Dagonet sat aside from Bors, cleaning the blood from his axe with a look of quiet determination. Bishop Germanus and his secretary were seated near to where Arthur walked while Doctor Mancomn made to pour himself a glass of wine. Gaia's eyes turned to Tristan who had been seated, but now walked to the window she had been staring out of, placing a hand on the wall and leaning upon it. None of the knights had bothered to remove their armor and they smelled foully from the blood that was still on their unwashed faces and hands, not to mention the gallons of blood spilt on their armor. Gaia's own pale pink loose-fitting gown was tinted red as the blood stained it from Lancelot's embrace. She did not take notice of it, however, turning her attention to Lancelot when he finally decided to speak. 

"What do you think their reason," he asked to no one in general, still watching Arthur in thought through his fingers.

"To kill me, I am sure," replied Gaia with malice. "I'm certain my father is making every attempt to end my life." Lancelot's eyes turned to Gaia as she spoke, but she still stared out the window looking livid.

"No," came Arthur's quiet voice sounding weary and perturbed. "You said yourself that his visit to you in your dream was forbidding you against aiding us in the fight. Why would he want you away from the fight if his motive was to kill you?"

"I don't know," replied Gaia with tension in her voice, but just then her eyes widened as she remembered the arrow that went to Tristan's attacker, sparing Tristan a horrible death. Her mouth had fallen open without her knowledge as the memory rushed back to her. She knew that it must have been the reason that her father wished her to be away from the battle - preferably dead. If she had been dead and gone, Tristan would have taken the arrow and would be dead alongside her, felling Arthur's only scout and a promising, powerful ally, as Gaia allowed herself to believe she was. She let the whole of her father's plan sink in: if it had all gone accordingly, she would have died in his _mírë_, Tristan would have been fallen by the Woad archer, and Arthur and his five other knights would beblind-easy to target. It was so simple, yet so ferociously complex. Gaia thought furiously about what to tell Arthur. She had not wanted to tell anyone of how she saved Tristan's life, partly for Tristan's own sake. She wondered how the knights would react to him being saved by a Woad. Surely a riotous round of jeers would ensue.

"Gaia, what is it?" Gaia turned to her right to see Gawain looking at her with surprise. She had been gaping at absolutely nothing while the thoughts formed in her head, and he had taken quick notice to it. Every man in the room turned to stare at her intently, and she could think of nothing else to do but tell the truth. She opened and closed her mouth several times, much like Arthur had done at learning her name. Arthur stared at her from across the table, willing her to speak.

"I think I may know," she said slowly, her eyes locked with Arthur's. She took a deep breath, silently apologizing to Tristan, and spoke. "When I was atop the battlementsI fell several Woads, as you all noticed, but one in particular. He had an arrow aimed directly at Tristan who was unaware and consumed by the battle. I believe the arrow could have proved to be fatal, had I not intercepted and killed the man before he was able to fire." She closed her eyes with a sigh of relief, but opened them when there had been no responses. She looked to Tristan who did not look in the least abashed by her proclamation. In fact, she thought she saw the shadow of a smile upon his face.

"Had Merlin killed you, as he intended, Tristan would have met his death," said Gawain softly, his eyes turned upon her with a lucidness that could light the room. "You not only saved his life, but you saved all of our lives." Everyone seemed to be quiet, letting the whole of it sink in much like Gaia had done. She took the time to steel another glance at Tristan who had been staring at her as well. He _was_ smiling! She shot him a questioning look, but he waved her off and turned his attention to Arthur.

"They'll move to strike again," he said quietly, "and soon. We should not have let them retreat."

"Mercy," said Lancelot quietly, "a Roman weakness."

"Negativity," Gaia said with a small smile. "A Sarmation weakness."

The round table rang with laughter as the men jeered at Lancelot's surprised expression, and he finally gave in and laughed as well. Gaia only sat and bathed in the moment, loving these men more and more. They were becoming her friends, of which she had seen naught in the years past.

* * *

Gaia sat in a basin in her room, cleaning off the blood from her arms before drying herself, wrapping a deep crimson robe around her, and setting to work on the stained nightdress. It was not long before there was a knock at her door.

"Come in," she hollered, not taking her eyes off of the nightdress in her hands. She was kneeling by the basin and scrubbing the dress with fervor, but with no luck of removing the stain. She glanced up as the door opened, surprised to see Tristan standing before her in black trousers and a dark green tunic, his mangled hair wetted down after being washed. He seemed to be smiling as he came in and sat in a chair, staring at her intently. She flashed him a smile and continued her work. She was about to ask him if there was something wrong, but decided better of it, for judging by his expression, he was in a state of happiness. She only waited for him to speak.

"You were concerned," he said quietly, his husky voice ringing in her ears, "about telling Arthur about the Woad you felled." Her eyes darted up at his words. He looked very entertained by the entire discussion, sitting very relaxed in his chair, his eyes fixed intently on her hands working on the gown. She only nodded a response as she stared at him in great surprise.

"How did you know that," she asked slowly.

"You were out of countenance," he said calmly, his eyes not moving from her hands. She raised an eyebrow at his tone, it sounded almost cheery, or at least as near to cheery as Tristan could get.

"You knew I stopped that archer, didn't you," she asked him in a small voice, intimidated by the killer.

"Yes."

"Were you not unnerved that you were saved by a Woad?"

"No," he said as he stared at her incredulously. "How could you think that? You are no Woad. You are..."

"A Briton," she replied with a small smile, which he returned. Then, he took something from his pocket and his face became much more serious.

"I found this," he began as he played with the something that he had retrieved from his pocket, "laying near you the day we first found you." He opened his hand and Gaia let out a silent gasp as she beheld the necklace in his palm.A round piece of metal with a jade pounded into the middl waswoven onto a leather string. It was obviously made by someone who had no true skill, but the leather was strong and the stone was in place. Gaia let loose the smile that threatened to split her face as she took the jewelery from Tristan.

"It was my mothers," she said slowly as she tied it around her neck. "My father made it for her ere I was born. She passed it down to me before her death. I can't believe you found it!" She raised her eyes to Tristan's, her smile still upon her face.

"Consider it a gift to the woman who saved my life," he said with a chuckle.

"I watched you fight," she said, moving her gaze to the ground and the basin she sat in front of, her hand stroking the jewel. "Your skills are beyond contestation. You kill like a machine; graceful, rhythmic, and leathal. Do you truly find pleasure in maiming?" Slowly, she allowed her eyes to move upwards to meet his, which were bright and met her gaze keenly.

"When you've killed as I've killed, worked as I've worked, over the past fourteen years, you acquire a feeling close to pleasure for it," he said passively, "you must admit that there is a satisfaction in it, is there not?" She stared at him in silence, her eyes swiftly taking in the whole of his being. Such an intense personality in his words, and yet he showed no emotion, no fervor, no energetic aura.

"There is a feeling I get after making a kill," she acquiesced, "though remorse immediately follows; sorrow for the fellow. How did you learn to fight like that," she asked, her intrigue getting the better of her.

"Twenty years of bloody killings can have an effect on a man." There was a silence for the moment as Gaia thought of how difficult Tristan's life must have been. To kill since before you could remember, to be born into a life of ruthless gore, was beyond anything she could imagine. Then, she thought of the savages that were the Woads and how she had grown with them, her life being forced into the ways of the pagans that she regarded as family. She thought of her mother and how she had somehow been strong enough to raise her as a Christian, hiding her devotion to her Savior for fear that Merlin would do the inevitable.

"What are Arthur's plans for the Woads," she asked quickly as he stood and walked to the doorway, snapping her from her reverie. He looked at her for a moment in thought.

"He should be the one to tell you that." And he closed the door, swiftly making his way to the bar.

* * *

Gaia found herself completely exhausted from the battle and a night without sleep, that she could not push herself to go to Arthur and inquire about the battle. She lay in bed starring dreamily out at the grey clouds as it began to rain. She did not move to close the window, but only allowed the rain to hit the sill with force. She listened to the beat of the rain as it pounded against the fortress and she closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep. She was in her room for what seemed like hours before Arthur came in, looking drained of emotion and energy. Gaia was laying on her bed with her eyes closed and jolted to life at the sound of him knocking and entering, and was not surprised by his disheveled appearance. He walked silently to a chair across from her bed and sat slowly, soreness taking over him. He fixed her with an emotionless stare and finally spoke.

"My men have agreed to ride to east," he said with a toneless and weary voice, "to the wall curves to its northernmost point. If any attempt is made at coming south of the wall, it will be from there. Otherwise, the land north of the wall is not of our concern."

"Merlin will foresee it," Gaia said sharply, eyeing Arthur with curiosity. "He surely expected it before he even sent the legion." Arthur was silent for a moment.

"That is inevitable," he said with a sigh as he rose and walked to the window, closing the large shutters and drying the damp sill. She threw a last longing look to the outside world, even though it was wet and cold. Then, she turned her attention to Arthur, who stood in thought.

"Then I am coming with you." Her tone was stern and said that she should not be questioned, though Arthur disobeyed.

"I forbid that," he said forcefully. "You are in no condition for a battle."

"I fought this morning."

"You shot arrows from a wall far off from the center of the battle," Arthur corrected. "And look at you now: weary and disconcerted. You shall stay within the safety of the fortress."

"Not if I can help it," Gaia muttered under her breath. Arthur let out a sigh at her words, and she blushed a bit, not intending for him to hear.

"You certainly are fervid," he said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "But I will personally see to it that you are incapable of following us, and that you are guarded always. Make friends with Vanora, for she will never leave your side." He walked swiftly to the door and stopped before closing it, as Gaia spoke to him, this time in a quieter tone.

"If he so much as wounds you or one of your knights," she said with passion in her voice, "I will see his death is done by my bow." Arthur only nodded coldly to her and turned, closing the door behind him. Lancelot was there again, starring at his commander with a serious expression.

"She will not easily stay within these walls," Lancelot said quickly. Arthur only frowned at him and walked down the hall. Lancelot did not follow, however, but knocked on Gaia's door and entered at her word. Arthur stood at the end of the hallway in surprise and apprehension. He wondered what Lancelot's motives were, but thought better of questioning his knight and walked to the stable to ready his stallion.

Lancelot entered Gaia's room and was swept away by the beautiful smell of the rosemary she sprinkled in order to lessen the stench of the blood. She was standing at the window, having opened the shutters again and let the rain fall on her hands which were rested on the sill. She turned her head to the door to see Lancelot enter, but her gaze left him as she looked back out at the town. Lightning lit the darkening sky and the low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Lancelot quietly walked to her side and looked out at the people of Badon Hill running quickly in an uproar at the sudden departure of the knights. He noticed Jols carrying a load of tack to the stables and knew he was preparing his liverchestnut stallion for him. He gently turned his gaze down to Gaia, but she still looked out the window with a stern glance.

"I want you to know," he said slowly, his gaze not moving from her, and hers not moving from the town, "that your skills with the bow are beautiful. I have never before seen a better archer, save, of course, for our scout." At his kind words, Gaia slowly looked him in the eye. She thought for a moment about the man standing before her. He was brazen and lusty, and she found herself drawn to him. Then she thought of Tristan with his mysterious air and stunningly beautiful eyes, and the necklace he had saved for her, even when he knew she was a Woad, even while he knew she was Merlin's daughter. He was truly entrancing. And, of course, there was Arthur; noble, kind, gentle Arthur who only wanted good in the world. He was a fine man and any respectable woman would be lucky to have him. She thought of how he had become so cold to her before he left her quarters, and turned her attention to Lancelot to question him.

"How long does Arthur plan to stay in the east?" she asked, not bothering to hide her concern.

"He knows not," Lancelot replied softly. Gaia smiled, lightening the mood, and spoke with a quick tongue.

"You will be missed," she started, and was surprised that Lancelot's lips did not curve into that infamous smirk. He only continued to smile with pure adoration, an emotion unknown to Lancelot until recently. "Your red-headed bar wench will be awaiting your return to her arms, of course," she added with a small smile, almost a sneer. He laughed aloud at her and glanced out at the lightning-lit sky.

"She will be waiting an awful long time."

* * *

_**A/N:** There you have it. Hope the length was ok - I was afraid it would be too long. So, Arthur and his knights are riding to the east! Will they meet an ambush or bathe in a victory? Dun-dun-dun... Thanks again to my reviewers!_


	11. XI

_**A/N:** I couldn't have a nicer group of reviewers! You guys encourage me to continue; it's awesome! Thanks for that. A special thanks to Ms Genova who has such a wonderful way with words - I'm glad you liked my description of Tristan :) To LovelyHeidi, about your question concerning Lancelot's last line in the previous chapter ("She will be waiting an aweful long time"); that was merely my attempt at showing Lancelot's genuine charm, his sometimes-hidden sincerity. He was really just trying to tell Gaia that he wasn't as brazen as she thought he was. Anyway, thanks so much for the review! Now, on with the story..._

* * *

Gaia accompanied Lancelot to the stables to help in the preparation of the horses. He held her close, sheltering her from the ill weather, as they made their way to the much-wanted covering of the barn. She had lived in the wilderness, and the rain did not bother her in slightest, but she was still clad in the long crimson robe and did not turn down the offer that Lancelot had made. Once they reached the barn, all heads turned; heads of knights; of maidens, and squires; all turned to Lancelot and the woman in his arms. The riotous mob that had been in sheer pandemonium had now stopped in their tracks. Gaia was looking only at Lancelot, smiling her thanks up to him, but now she looked wildly around the room, unsure of what they were staring at. She spotted Arthur who had a saddle in midair and a blank look on his face. She parted from Lancelot quickly in order to speak with Arthur. She was not going to let him leave without a proper goodbye. As she approached, he continued saddling the horse with a large Roman saddle, cinching the girth as she patted the horse on the neck.

"Lancelot tells me you do not know for how long you shall be gone," she said quietly, eyeing him with concern as he continued to cinch the girth. He avoided her eyes for a reason she did not know, and he made himself busy with his horses bridle, taking the bit and warming it in the palms of his hands. "Arthur," she goaded in nearly a whisper, taking the bit from him and warming it in her own hands. He walked around her to the horse's face in order to make the proper adjustments the bridle's cheek pieces and throat latch.

"That is right," he said shortly, his eyes not moving from the bridle that his hands worked furiously at. He finally turned eyes upon her, but looked at her hands, silently demanding that she hand over the bit. She did so, unwillingly, and looked at the ground in confusion while he attached the warm bit to the bridle and slid it swiftly into the horses mouth. "When you are well there will be work for you here," he said finally, and her eyes shot up to him in astonishment.

"When I am well I am to join you," she encouraged. He looked at her coldly, and she took a step away from his horse as he mounted. She placed a hand on the horse, forbidding him to ride away like this. "You are risking your lives because of me. If you had not saved my life, if I were not here right now, none of this would be happening. You can not let me be useless."

"You will be useful here," he said sternly, looking around at his knights.

"Why do I get the feeling you are upset with me," she asked him, putting her whole arm in front of the horses chest. Arthur's horse snorted his disapproval, ready to fight and annoyed by the delay. She ignored the horses discontent and stared intently at Arthur. He heaved sigh and spoke in a low voice, nearly a growl.

"I am upset with you because I know you will not heed to my wishes," then his speech changed and he spoke with a smooth tone and warmer eyes. "I fear for you, Lady, and I fear for the fate of these people if my men fail in battle. And I fear for my men, that they may not see the last twelvemonth of their service, nor the fruitful life that lingers so enticing in the distance."

"If it is your heart's wish that I remain," she said through a cracked voice, tears welling in her eyes, "So be it. May God be with you on your journey." He managed a smile down at her and motioned for a woman to join them that had been standing by Bors. Gaia instantly recognized her as Vanora, the mother of Bors's ten children. She was a tall woman with curly brownish red hair and a baby on her hip. When she came over, two other children trailed her; one boy and one girl. The boy looked about four years old and the girl seemed to be about three. Both had dark brown hair, very straight, and dark brown eyes, very much like Bors. Vanora was smiling brightly as she reached Gaia, and she looked upon her with happiness, not disdain, which took Gaia by surprise and she knew she had found a lifelong friend.

"Vanora," said Arthur, turning his torso to acknowledge the woman, "you have met Gaia." He said her name proudly, and beamed down at her. Vanora only nodded happily. "You are to tend to her as often as possible," Arthur instructed Vanora, "and in return for this she will aid you in the duties of keeping your children until we return." Gaia's mouth dropped open at Arthur's words and both Arthur and Vanora laughed aloud at her loss of countenance. She blushed and snapped her mouth shut. Arthur seemed content with the happenings and nodded to Vanora who then retreated back to Bors. Arthur leaned down and kissed Gaia on the cheek.

"Send word to me," Gaia whispered, removing her hand from the horse's chest. "I shall need to know you are safe."

"I will send someone as often as I can spare them," he said quietly, settling on his horse. He had but to squeeze his horse on the barrel and the stallion shot forward, out of the stable. Gaia stared after him for a moment but then heard a horse behind her and she turned to see Bors. He looked very much sober and very much awake from the previous fight. He looked down on Gaia with a stern glance, and she felt herself grow nervous from his gaze.

"Take care of my Vanora," he said roughly, but he smiled as he spoke, "and take care of my bastards." Gaia beamed at him and nodded her head vigorously.

"Teach 'em everything I know about fighting," she said happily. Bors laughed and banged a fist to his hard armor and cantered his horse after Arthur. Gaia walked to the large door as the rest of the knights prepared to leave. Tristan had gone to the gate before Arthur along with Gawain and Galahad. Lancelot and Dagonet walked side-by-side leading their horses. When Lancelot slowed to speak to Gaia, Dagonet continued to walk on.

"Do something for me," Lancelot said swiftly, the well-known smirk appearing on his face as he stared sideways at her. Her eyes were staring straight ahead of her, looking at the gates as they made their way down the lane, forgetting the rain that pounded upon them. She raised an eyebrow and nodded and his lips curved into a small smile. "Miss me."

Gaia bade the knights farewell from the east gate as the rode out, then ran to the well-known parapets to watch them. Bors halted his horse and turned him back to the fortress, the other knights eyeing him with confusion. He smiled at them, and turned his head to the parapets, raising a fist and bellowing his Sarmatian cry.

On the parapets, Gaia laughed aloud as he yelled and she returned it, though strained as she fought off the weariness that was tugging at her. Bors laughed and, dropping his reins to rest on the horses neck, cupped his hands around his mouth to yell to her.

"You're as good as any Sarmatian knight!" Gaia felt the smile that ensued threaten to split her face and she stared wordlessly watching as the seven forms turned into silhouettes and disappeared on the horizon. Their spirits were high and their duty was a simple one. Gaia only prayed that Merlin would not attempt to send his Woads south again, for when the Woads were scarce, Arthur and his knights would quickly be back on Badon Hill and all would be well. She walked slowly back down from the wall and made her way to the pub. She sat in a deep chair, exhausted from walking, and relaxed. The pub was quieter than the last time she had been there. There was no celebration, only working. Vanora had been drying dishes, and she came and sat next to Gaia, her youngest child in her arms.

"Can you tell me, Miss Vanora," said Gaia thoughtfully, "why everyone was so surprised to see me in the stables? I felt as if I were naked, the way people stared." She moved in her seat uncomfortably and Vanora only laughed.

"It was not you that they were surprised to see," said Vanora happily, looking down at the baby, "it is not often that a Woad walks into our barn, but it is less often that she walks in on the arm of Sir Lancelot." She laughed as she finished, picturing Lancelot's expression when all eyes were turned upon him. Gaia laughed a bit as well, her insecurities leaving her. She helped Vanora to dry the remaining dishes, and made for her bed. She walked slowly up the deserted hallways, wondering what the new day would bring and how long Arthur and his men would be gone. She entered her dark room, dull and shady, and she quickly slid under the covers. She wondered what would happen if she dared to close her eyes. She wondered if her father would make another attempt at her life. The fingers of exhaustion were tugging at her sleeve and she was beginning to give in to them. She knew he would not waste his time and remaining power on another _mírë_, and she felt her worries sift slowly away.

* * *

Arthur and his knights rode for two days before reaching Hadrian's Wall's northernmost point. It was bare and cold and the sky could not be seen through the layers of dark clouds shielding it. Tristan road along the wall to the east in an attempt to scout out the lands. He returned to Arthur by sundown on the third day, and shook his head in dismay. 

"They are everywhere, Arthur," he said solemnly, pointing northwest over the wall, "Merlin knew we were coming."

"How many," Arthur asked intensely, as he turned his horse to ride to the other knights.

"Hundreds," replied Tristan, but a small smile wandered onto his face. "Should be fun," he added. Arthur did not speak, only nodded, and asked his horse for a canter. He replied willingly and Arthur steered him to Gawain.

"What is it," Gawain asked, noting the concern and grim expression on the face of his commander.

"An army of Woads has anticipated our arrival." The other knights stopped what they were doing to turn to their commander in surprise. "Tristan says there are hundreds."

"Let them come," called Bors roughly. "I've gone three days without a fight. I'm beginning to miss the smell of blood." The knights laughed lightly as they prepared for battle.

* * *

_**A/N:** heehee! I'm sure you're all hating me right now cause it seemed like Lancelot had won Gaia's affections there for a while. But what about Tristan? And Arthur? No, she hasn't made up her mind and yes, she will make up her mind by the end of the story. Good news (at least for me), though:I've decided to do a sequel based at the time of the film! The hardest part is making it as original as possible while including the same events. We'll see how it goes. Anyway, another battle is on the way! Let me know what you think!_


	12. XII

_**A/N:** Alrighty, this is a much, much shorter chapter, so I hope you all forgive me for that. There's excitement, though, so let's get down to it..._

* * *

Raenus, the Woad scout, sat quietly in a tree very near to Hadrian's Wall. He stared intently at the knights on the opposing side. He watched as a dark haired one, disheveled looking and bloodthirsty, reported to a man in a crimson cape. He smiled inwardly and turned to a Woad soldier on the ground.

"They've found us out," said Raenus to the warrior in their native tongue. "Do asMerlin hath bade you." The soldier turned quickly and began to run noisely through the woods. Instinct took over as Raenus aimed his bow to the soldier. "Fool," he muttered as he let loose the arrow, stinging the soldier in the back and bringing him down in seconds. "You make haste, you make noise." He then disembarked from the tree and swiftly made his way to his chief on his own.

* * *

Arthur stood with his knights on the top of the wall, watching as hundreds on top of hundreds of Woads formed in the woods to the north. They were so near that they could be seen despite their blue color and chameleon behavior. They stared menacingly at the knights, aiming their bows, but not firing.

"They are in need of an invitation, Arthur," Dagonet said softly to his commander. Arthur nodded his agreement.

"Tristan," he called and the scout nodded and aimed an arrow at a Woad seemingly hidden in a tree. The bow string was taught and then the arrow went skimming through the air, landing itself directly in the throat of the Woad. He fell, screaming, out of the tree and landed in front of the scout Raenus who glared mercilessly at Tristan. Raenus raised a hand and the Woads raised their arrows. They fired, but their luck was ill as the knights could easily take shelter in the stone battlements of the wall. Raenus looked unhappy and he motioned for the warriors to draw their swords

"Knights, prepare for hand-to-hand combat," Arthur ordered his men after noting the Woad scout's maneuver. "Tristan and Bors, continue with arrows until they are upon us." There was a clash of metal as six swords were unsheathed, Lancelot drawing his twin blades. Tristan fired two arrows at once, killing one Woad before he could hit the ground. Then, with several cries and jeers from the knights, the Woads attacked. They flung themselves atop the wall with skill and made haste to reach the other side. The first Woad to reach the top was relieved of his head from Arthur himself, and the several to follow lost numerous limbs. However, the Woads were courageous and did not falter. Soon, they were on the opposing side of the wall, fighting hard. All seven of the knights now had their swords drawn and they fought intensely. Tristan drew his sword slowly, focusing deeply, and within seconds he had dismembered several heads. The Woad scout Raenus was not pleased with the fighting of his warriors and drew his own knife. Lancelot knew his face and quickly made to stick his blade in the scout's stomach, but without luck, for Raenus was skilled in the ways of Sarmatian fighters and he quickly parried Lancelot's blows. Lancelot was taken aback by the man's ability, but welcomed the challenge. They fought intently and neither grew tired, though they were certainly a match for each other's skills. Bors was roaring his Sarmatian war cry as he sliced his enemies to pieces, Gawain was wielding his axe with expert precision as was Dagonet, and Galahad and Arthur were sharply engaged in combat with tens of Woads. Lancelot was not fighting with a Woad of normal consequence, but a true warrior and a skilled fighter. He grew weary, but vowed not to give in. Raenus launched a blow to Lancelot's left side, and he blocked it, thrusting his right blade into Raenus's side. Raenus let out a howl of grief and thrust his sword to the ground, pouncing on Lancelot. His twin blades were strewn from him as he hit the solid earth with a thud. Raenus pinned Lancelot to the ground and grabbed for a small blade in his boot. He made to stab Lancelot in the stomach, but Lancelot jerked away and the blade went deeply into his right side. He closed his eyes at the pain, forbidding himself to cry out. His side seared as he fought to get away from the lethal Woad. Raenus took this time to his advantage, head-butted Lancelot, and he became unconscious.Galahad, who had been fighting not far from Raenus and Lancelot let out a cry and made his way towards his friend and brother-in-arms, thrashing Woads as he went. He reached Lancelot just as Raenus held his sword poised above the knight's head, and blocked the fatal blow that would have fallen Sir Lancelot. Raenus was unconcerned, but annoyed at the delaying of his kill and fought back with fervor. Bors had heard Galahd yell and looked towards Lancelot. He screeched his cry and ran to the man, kneeling next to him. Dagonet came sharply to his side, looking down at Lancelot with concern.

"Is he dead, Dag?" Bors's voice was covered with an unusual amount of concern. Dagonet felt for a pulse and shook his head quickly.

"He lives. Arthur," he called to his commander who was fighting not far from them, "Lancelot must be taken back to the fortress! He needs healing!" Arthur nodded and slew a last Woad before retreating to Lancelot's side. Dagonet, Tristan, and Bors continued to fight off Woads as Arthur helped his knight upright. He glanced around for Tristan, calling his name, and finally found his scout coming towards him leaving a mess of slaughtered Woads in his wake. His face held not disdain, but pleasure and entertainment.

"Tristan," Arthur yelled to him over the numerous sounds of battle, "take Lancelot and his horse back to the fort. Ride hard, ride swift." Tristan nodded and grabbed Lancelot unceremoniously, throwing him over his shoulders and making his way to his own steed.

Tristan grunted as he threw Lancelot onto his horse and mounted behind him, tying Lancelot's stallion to the saddle of his own horse. He whistled to his hawk which was flying in the distance and it landed on his arm. He spoke soothingly to it and raised his arm before the hawk took off towards the fortress. He then spurred his horse into a hard gallop, Lancelot's stallion forced to keep up by the binds that held him to Tristan's. He held tightly to Lancelot as he began to slip off the horse. He only prayed he would reach the fortress in time.

* * *

_**A/N:** I told you it was short! Alas, this was the perfect place to stop. Yes, I'm leaving my readers hanging, but I couldn't resist a little innocent suspense! Promise that I'll update it soon as not to leave you all in the dark for too long. Thanks so muchfor the wonderful reviews!_


	13. XIII

_**A/N:** Another short chapter! But don't worry, they'll be getting much longer very soon. Thanks for the feedback, guys, and I love the predictions I'm seeing from you all. I think there's going to be some unexpected happenings, however. I won't keep you all waiting, though. Read on!_

* * *

As the days passed, Gaia found herself relaxing and enjoying the company of Vanora and her children. She sat with them everyday, telling them tales of the Woads and accounts she had ventured on. When the fifth day dawned, Gaia began to feel like a soldier's wife, anxiously awaiting his return as she busied herself with trifling matters such as drying the dished of the pub. The only difference was that she was not awaiting the return of one soldier, but of seven, and this easily made her anxiety consume her. Gaia tried her best to smile happily as Vanora did, thinking of the life she would undoubtedly have with these knights when they returned, having beaten the Woads and triumphed over her father. She thought of Tristan and how skilled he was in the battle, and she grew optimistic. Never would she have predicted that the scout was now nearing the fortress with a dying Lancelot on his horse. These new happenings were declared when she heard a Roman officer yell from the gates.

"Two knights approaching from the east," sang his voice through the village. Gaia's smile faded and her eyes darted upwards to the door of the pub. She glanced to Vanora who was just as shocked. Dropping the plate she was drying, Gaia ran to the parapets, not flinching as she heard the plate crash into thousands of pieces. She ran along the battlements until she reached the eastern gates, her mind reeling with prayer. Her mouth fell open as she beheld two horses, one baring no rider and the other with two. She took noticeof Tristan's hawk flying above her head and she instantly recognized the riderless horse as Lancelot's.

"Tristan rides hard," she muttered to herself. "Jols," she screamed, turning and running to the gates. Jols had been in the barn, but ran out at her scream, a worried expression upon his face. "Lancelot is injured; Tristan brings him home - Open the gates," she screeched to the guards, and they made haste. She wrung her hands and waited for Tristan to enter while Vanora came outside with Doctor Mancomn and Bishop Germanus at her heels. A large number of the doctor's handmaidens had followed Mancomn to the gate and were whispering intently to each other. Tristan finally rode in and the guards quickly helped him to lower Lancelot to the ground. Gaia stood a few yards away, tears streaming down her face, as the doctor shook his head and cursed under his breath as he removed Lancelot armor to find a large gash in his right side. The once-crisp white tunic he wore was now tinted pink with the blood.

"I can save him," he said in a tone that did poorly to spark enthusiasm. He ordered the guards to take him to a spare room in the fortress, and they did so, the handmaidens rushing behind. He rose slowly and furrowed his brow.

"Can you really save him," Gaia whispered through her tears. He raised an eyebrow and nodded his head.

"You have my word," was all he said and he walked off quickly to gather his many supplies. Gaia turned to Tristan who was handing off Lancelot's horse to Jols. She rushed to the pub and brought out a mug of water for the knight as he dismounted. He took it willingly, nodding his thanks. A small smile had formed on his lips as he stared at her, handing back the empty mug. She looked at him in thought for a moment and then spoke.

"I am riding back with you." Tristan's eyebrows rose greatly at her words and she swore that his smile had grown. She was intimidated by his eyes and did not look directly into them as he spoke to her.

"You gave Arthur your word, Gaia," he muttered. She felt her knees weaken as he spoke her name and she felt the urge to smile, though she would not allow herself to be happy when her friend was now slowly nearing death up in a room in the fortress.

"He was a fool to take it," she muttered and she quickly turned and ran up to her room, dressing in the Woad clothing Arthur had found her in. It had been cleaned and returned to her and she was wary to put it on, but had nothing else to fight in. As she dressed she glanced out the window and saw Tristan standing with his horse. She smiled inwardly at the sight. She had given him the opportunity to leave her, but he had not taken it and she knew he thought her decision was, in fact, a wise one. He paced and glanced around in annoyance, thinking of the battle that was undoubtedly continuing at the eastern side of the wall. Finally, she grabbed her quiver and bow along with several small knives and a cutlass and ran with haste to the gates. She felt her muscles ache as she ran, but ignored them knowing that she would be feeling far worse within the next few days, but she needed to help these men.

When she arrived at the gate she noticed Jols standing with a second horse. She gave him a questioning look as he offered her the reins.

"You'll need a horse," Tristan muttered as he mounted. She looked at him with raised eyebrows and waved Jols off.

"I will not endanger an animal in battle," she said shortly. "Why can I not ride with you?"

"You're too passionate," he said with a smile as he reached out his hand and swept her up on the saddle in front of him. "Hold on." He spurred his horse forward and the animal reacted swiftly. Gaia threw a last loving glance to her newfound friends Jols and Vanora as they waved from the gate. Tristan's horse was large and did not falter with the weight of two people. He soldiered on strongly with large strides.

They rode in silence, occasionally slowing from a gallop to a canter in order to give the stallion rest. They rode for a day before catching site of the camp that Arthur and his knights had set. The battle was ended, the Woads having had retreated back over the wall. Gaia counted the remaining knights nervously as she saw them all sitting by a campfire in the dusk light of the evening and heaved a sigh when she noted that they were all there, unharmed.

Arthur rose as he saw Tristan approaching and felt his stomach clench when he saw someone with him. He cursed Tristan for allowing her to come and marched towards them as they drew nearer. Tristan dismounted first and then offered Gaia a hand to climb from the horse. She took it willingly and set weary eyes on the commander as he approached. The other knights had risen and were walking just behind Arthur.

"She would not stay," Tristan muttered carelessly to Arthur as he shot him a questioning look. "She would have trailed me if I did not take her." Arthur looked at Gaia coldly and she felt the color rise in her cheeks.

"You gave me your word." His voice was not the soothing voice she had heard so many times before. It was now coated with anger and weariness from the battle. His eyes, too, did not hold the spark that they had, but were now replaced with the unhappiness of an angered parent scolding their child.

"And I told you that if Merlin injured one of your men or yourself that I would see his death is done by my bow," she replied warmly, reaching a hand to touch his cheek gently. She could feel him melt underneath her hand and saw a small smile form on his face, ashen and weary though it was. He held her hand and walked her to the fire.

"What of my Vanora," asked Bors softly as Gaia sat. The knights had taken their seats again, looking eagerly at her.

"She is a most lovable woman, Bors," Gaia replied with as much happiness as she could, her thoughts still with Lancelot and his injuries. She began to wonder if he would be alive the next time she beheld him. "You are a lucky man." Bors smiled with satisfaction.

"And my Gilly? Has he been fighting?"

"Yes."

"And winning?"

"The best fighter I've seen at his age."

"Good."

"And what of Lancelot, Tristan," asked Galahad. He had not yet spoken to Gaia directly and still disdained her slightly.

"He'll be alright," said Tristan as he chopped an apple into several pieces with a large knife. He handed a piece to Gaia who sat directly to his right and she took it willingly. "Mancomn's got him taken care of."

"I pray that is the case," Gaia whispered. Arthur gave her a small, reassuring smile from her right side, but did not speak.

"Lancelot has looked worse than you saw him, Gaia," Tristan soothed from her other side, "he's made some damned good recoveries." She managed a small smile at his words, and he handed her another piece of the apple. "And what of the Woads," he asked, turning his eyes from the ex-Woad to Arthur. Gaia turned to look at the commander to her right, her eyes curious.

"They retreated shortly after you left. We don't know what their next move will be. I suppose they'll-" Arthur was cut off as Tristan stood abruptly, looking above the wall. "Tristan, what do you see," asked Arthur as he rose from his seat as well. The other knights stood slowly, looking into the distance of Hadrian's Wall's north side.

Gaia followed Tristan's glance and saw a flicker of color in the dark trees. A scout of her people. "I see him," Gaia whispered, slowly reaching for her bow. Tristan put a hand to her arm and she froze.

"Damned bastards," Bors murmured as he stood, looking into the distance, but not actually seeing the scout. He narrowed his eyes, but to no avail and simply took the word of Tristan that there was truly anyone there.

"They see the night as a prime time for attack," Dagonet whispered as he sat down again, sharpening his axe. "We are lucky for your scout's eyes, Tristan."

"You're sure you can do this?" Tristan muttered to Gaia as he pulled out his own bow.

She flexed and bent her arms, feeling them ache, but ignoring it. "I can," she replied, but she was not very sure, and it showed in her voice.

"That's the Woad that fell Lancelot." Tristan's voice was just below a whisper as he nodded to the creature in the tree. Gaia's eyes turned to fierce slits of rage and she felt her blood begin to boil.

"He's mine," she whispered, pulling an arrow from her quivver as she held her bow discreetly at her side. She saw Raenus aim his arrow at her, and she immediately pulled her bow taught, but his arrow had already been sent, aimed directly at her chest. She had enough time to see him fire it but she knew there would not be enough time to dive away from it. She released her arrow into the distance, but he had dived away from it, unscathed. The whistling sound of the arrow coming nearer stopped suddenly. Her eyes had closed and she opened them slowly, fearing to see a fallen knight in the arrow's path. Upon opening her eyes, she gaped as Tristan held the arrow in the palm of his hand, smiling wickedly. He had snatched it out of the air as if it were frozen, as if time had stopped and he had only to easily grab for it. _Just like a machine_, she thought with admiration.

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_**A/N:** And there you have it. Yes, another battle. It's going to be a bit dramatic, but I can't help it.I like writing out the battle sequences for some reason. I can really see it in my head pretty well. Ok, this is an Author's Note, not a blog, so I won't banter. I'll be forced to hold you, dear readers, in suspense due to Father's Day which is rapidly approaching, but I promise that the next chapter will not only be up as soon as I can manage, but it will be longer! Yay! Keep up the great reviews!_


	14. XIV

_**A/N:** Nearing the 70 review marker! Yay! I would never have believed I'd get this many responses when I started. Thanks so much! Whee! Ok, the fourteenth chapter! I said it would be long, and I think it is. Not as long as I thought it was, though. Future chapters will be longer.Quick shoutout to Ms Genova for her enthusiasm - your review made me smile! I'll be giving all my reviewers shoutouts on the last chapter, I promise. Thanks again!_

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Five knights and a woman gaped at Tristan as he stood with an arrow in his hand. None could believe what they had just seen him do.

"Tristan," said Gawain slowly, "how did you do that?" Tristan did not answer but loaded the arrow into his own bow and fired it into a different tree from the one it came. A Woad archer screamed and fell to the ground. All eyes were now on the dark, devious, deadly knight. He turned his eyes upon Gaia who quickly shut her gaping mouth.

"You will certainly have to teach me that trick," Gaia said laughingly, as she ran to the wall with the others in order to keep out of range of the Woads. Tristan stood next to her and fired arrows up to the Woads at random. He clearly hit several despite his inability to see, however, because the cries of pain could be heard by all. Soon, the archers were ordered to save their arrows and draw their swords. Gaia could faintly hear the metal and she caught her breath. "Swords," she whispered to Tristan. He raised an eyebrow at her and she could not help but smile.

"Not bad," he said quietly as he drew his sword. On Arthur's command, the knights and Gaia ran from the shelter of the wall and prepared themselves for hand-to-hand. Woads were flowing from the top of the wall and they rained down on the knights with force. Gaia glanced nervously at Tristan and he smiled down at her. "No harm will come to you," he said gallantly as the Woads drew near.

"I should have painted myself blue," Gaia whispered, more to herself than to Tristan. "They'd have been fool enough to mistake me for one of them."

"You're clothing is provocative enough to blind them from your skin's color," he replied with a wicked smile and a glance at her figure. She had not the time to blush because Woads were now upon them, coming from nearly every direction. Gaia thrust her sword into one and killed him immediately, then looked for the scout that had injured Lancelot. To her extreme luck she found him not far from her. She ran to him quickly as he was battling with Galahad.

"He's mine, Galahad," she yelled to the knight who quickly turned to stop a blow from another Woad. She took advantage of this and lunged at Raenus. He blocked her sword and stared into her eyes with malevolence. His eyes widened when he saw her face.

"Gaia," he whispered her name as if she were a ghost. She smirked at him and spoke quickly in their native language. Several knights and Woads had turned to stare as she screamed at the scout.

"I tell you now, Raenus, that Merlin's attempts to kill myself and these knights will cease now!" Her voice rose fiercely and she could see the fear in his eyes. She took the opportunity and pushed him to the ground, poising the point of her blade to his Adam's Apple. "And if they do not," she continued, her voice now shaking with rage, "then it will be my sword up his ass!" She glanced to the sword that lay on the ground and she looked at him with a thoughtful, scheming expression. She glanced around at the others who were staring wildly at her as she spoke furiously, the knights not understanding a word, save for Arthur and Tristan who knew their language well. Woads all around had heard her voice and stared in disbelief at the daughter of their leader. She glanced back at the sword and kicked it to Raenus's side. "Up with it," she said shortly, complete and total disdain in her voice. He reached for it slowly, fear in his eyes, and stood. They poised their swords above each other's and their eyes locked. Raenus was beginning to shake with fear. Fear not of her, but of her father. Merlin could distort and maim him into oblivion, but he now wondered if there was any chance of Gaia inheriting her father's power; she certainly had his malice. He began to fear her, as well.

"It was you, Raenus, who tortured me," she said slowly. His eyes were wide with terror at her words and he shook his head quickly.

"No! It was not I, Lady. I only follow the word of your-"

"Do not use the paternal term, you worm," she shrieked at him as she made various attempts to slit him, though he blocked them all and when he parried, she did the same. His eyes were wide and apologetic, but she ignored them. How dare he preform innocence when he had been so bloodthirsty with Lancelot. She fought harder and harder, sweat coating her body. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he battled the daughter of his chief, his limps sore from the ongoing battle of the days and before. Gaia's hair had fallen from it's hold and now flew around her face in straight, sharp shards. She realized now what a foolish decision she had made in coming with Tristan, but she knew that the joy of smiting Raenus's ruins would override the burning of her every muscle, and she continued to beat her sword against his with passion. He tried to fight her, but fell to the ground with a sickening thud. She halted her sword as he lay gasping for breath. He turned pleasding eyes upon her as she demanded he pick up his sword again. "Put me to rest," he said urgently. "Kill me, kill me!"

"No! You will stand and fight me, Snake," she screamed at him. "Pick it up!"

"Lady," he breathed as he still lay unmoving, "Merlin does what he thinks best, and he knew you did not belong with us." Gaia's eyes flashed with livid hate as he spoke and she began to tremble from her fury.

"So it was better that I be tortured and left for dead, then?" Her voice shook with rage as she glared at him with more hatred than she ever thought possible.

"You belong with these men," he said coldly, now starring at her with a veil of hatred over his fear. "You should thank my master."

"You are an animal," she said through gritted teeth, seething at his ignorant words. She'd had her fill of conversation with the scout and motioned with her eyes to his sword. _Pick it up_, she silently willed him, _Stand and fight, you bastard_!

"Kill me," he willed her again, "for I will fight no longer. Merlin will protect me, and I will be with him again."

"You worship him as a god," Gaia muttered with disgust, "but he is no god. There are no gods, Raenus, only the One God, and you will do well to believe this. And I will not kill you yet," she added as she kicked his sword to his side, "I will not kill you when you ask me to, I will kill you in battle."

"You have done that," he said as he closed his eyes and took up his sword. Then, with a last gasp, he plunged it into his stomach and fell back, dead.

"Wretch," she screeched through tears that suddenly ran down her face. She dropped her sword and grabbed the limp form of Raenus and began to shake it violently, as if he would suddenly awake and rejoin in their fight. "I have failed you, Lancelot! You are a coward and a thief, Raenus, and I have failed to wreak my vengeance upon your hide!" She continued to shake the dead man as his eyes rolled in his head. The other Woads looked shocked at the death of their commanding officer and scout, and glanced to each other for some sign of action.

"Fight," yelled a deep voice from the top of the wall. All stared up at Merlin with awe as he stood with his staff in his hand and livid eyes set on Gaia and the limp form of Raenus. The Woads, inspired by the site of their mater, fought with new passion and the knights had all they could do to continue. Gaia's eyes left Raenus to focus on Merlin. She stared at him in horror and rage as she dropped the dead body that was Raenus to the ground. Tears still streamed on her face, but she ignored them. She sheathed her sword and took out her bow and an arrow, aiming it at her father. _Go on_, he said inside her head, _you are no match for me with only an arrow_. She lowered her bow and ran to the wall. As she ran, she felt a firm hand grab her arm and she was pulled backwards, nearly falling over in her rage. She turned to see the face of Tristan who was looking concerned and had blood slathered all over himself.

"Gaia," he said with warning, "do not let him form illusions in your head." Her rage died away at his soft touch on her arm and she felt herself go limp from weariness. All too soon, Woads were attacking Tristan and he released his hold on her arm. She almost fell over, but steadied herself with little grace.

_Come and see me, My Daughter,_ came Merlin's voice in her head. She shook her head fervently in an attempt to drown it out, but it came again. _You hold the fates of these six knights in your weak, Christian hand_. Her eyes darted to Merlin who stood on the wall. She screamed again, and ran to him with newfound rage, ignoring Tristan's words in her head. Upon reaching him, she raised her bow and aimed an arrow at his chest. He stood content, however, and look unabashed. She let loose the arrow, but it was blocked by a Woad throwing himself in front of Merlin in a fatal attempt to save the life of his master. She stared at the body of the Woad on the ground and she began to tremble.

It could have been from rage, or from fear, she did not know what made her do it, but she did it and she could barely believe she did. She pulled a knife from her boot and flung it at her father. He sidestepped and the knife embedded itself deep into the chest of an unaware archer in the distance and he fell, screaming, from his post. Gaia opened her mouth in a silent scream and her eyes surveyed Merlin with great terror as he walked towards her.

"You did not heed the wish of Raenus the Brave, Daughter," he said gruffly, "and you now find yourself in a state of dismay." He smirked at the sadness that flicked in her eyes.

"Did you not foresee that Arthur Castus would envelop me and make me well when you did not fulfill the duty of killing me?" Her voice rang with sarcasm and anger. She smirked slightly as his face fell a bit, and he looked at her with livid eyes. "You did not," she continued, sneering. "The all-powerful Merlin is not as strong as his minions and serfs think him. You could not even preform the _mírë_ properly, _Father_." His eyes flashed as she spat out the paternal name and he stepped towards her. She stepped back with every step forward he made.

"You are a fool," he spat at her and she began to fear at the fire in his eyes. She then realized that this was not a _mírë_ and that he could undoubtedly kill her with the wave of his hand.

"A fool because I chose a merciful God to follow, not you and your atheistic ways," she put to him, her voice quaked slightly under the fear she felt, but she had confidence in her Lord as she silently prayed to survive her father's wrath.

"Daughter," he began, his voice growing softer as he took another step forward, but he never finished. As he took a step forward, she took another step back and felt herself go over the edge of the wall, falling slowly down to where the knights were fighting. She landed with a sickening thud and felt her back sprain. Her vision was blurred with the agony she felt and she could not move. She drifted, slowly, to darkness.

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_**A/N:** Gasp! Drama!I think I made Merlin seem like a really bad guy here, but, alas, he is the villain and they have to be kinda bad, don't they?Anyway, ding-done the Woad is dead - kinda a bummer way for Raenus to die, I know, but I couldn't help it. And there was ahint of TristanOC in this chapter. Do my reviewers approve? Let me know!_


	15. XV

_**A/N:** I'm nearly finished writing the story! ...Nearly. This chapter doesn't have much going on in it, but it was fun to write. You'll see what I mean..._

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Light was coming back to Gaia finally. After what seemed like forever, she was awakening to the world. She opened her eyes to see the dark clouds that lingered over Hadrian's Wall and she thanked the Lord that she was still alive. As she glanced around in the darkness she assumed, noting the dark sky and slight lucidness on the east horizon, that she had been unconscious for only a few hours. She turned her head slightly to see all six of the knights were awake and sitting around a fire. She had been wrapped in a blanket and laid down on a patch of land that had not been covered with the blood from the battle. The horses grazed on grass near her and she smiled as Tristan's stallion nudged her leg slightly. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and felt her back sear with pain. She attempted to ignore it and stand, and though it was painful, she managed. She walked slowly towards the knights, staggering a bit from her aching bone. Tristan noticed her and quickly rose to take her arm and help her to sit down. He sat next to hear, holding her to ease her pain. She gently laid her head on his chest and felt him soften as she did so. He patted her hair with his hand, a gesture of kindness not usually shown by Tristan. The other knights only stared at her in concern.

"It's a miracle nothing was broken, girl," said Dagonet softly as he poured water into a canteen and handed it to her. "That fall could have killed a man." She only smiled her thanks and remained silent, fighting the pain and enjoying the company of Tristan. Arthur had been eyeing her concernedly, but directed his gaze to Tristan.

"What say you, Tristan," he asked quietly. "Retreat, or continue along?" Tristan sat in thought for a moment before answering his commander.

"We only provoke them by staying," he said wearily. "Though going back would endanger the lives of everyone at the fort."

"We'd have the advantage of home, however," voiced Gawain. "There is something to be said for that."

"True," said Bors. "They've got the advantage of their whole world out here in the woods. Give them a taste of a fortress and see what they think."

Gaia lifted her head from Tristan's chest, eyeing Bors keenly. "You meet them on a battlefield always," she murmured quietly, "they will attempt to ambush the fort, but will be filled with unknowing and you will easily beat them." Arthur nodded in resolve.

"Knights," he began wearily, "you have proven yourself to be great warriors on this night. We will leave at first light." Tristan shook his head disobediently.

"They will return soon enough. We should leave now." Arthur glanced to the other knights who nodded in agreement and they went about preparing the horses. Tristan slid himself away from Gaia and saddled his horse. She closed her eyes in exhaustion and after a time, felt a hand on her shoulder. She abruptly opened her eyes and looked up to see the kind face of Arthur standing above her.

"We are prepared to leave," he said softly.

"I have not a horse to bare me hence," Gaia breathed, closing her eyes again. She was too exhausted to understand as Arthur picked her up and carried her to his own horse. He hoisted her onto the saddle and sat just behind her. She clung to the stallions neck as the horse cantered on, Arthur holding her tightly by the waist and urging his horse to gain speed.

It had been nearly a week since Lancelot had been brought to the fortress at Badon Hill by Tristan and he paced on the wall of the gate as the new day dawned. He was well enough to walk, and had wanted to ride swiftly to join his brothers, but knew he would only be a burden. He paced the length of the east gates furiously in the hopes of seeing a horse in the distance. As the sun rose, he saw nothing, until suddenly, from no where came a hawk. Lancelot's heart leapt as he saw it, knowing that Tristan must be nearby. He strained to see as the sun rose, and finally he caught sight of six horses galloping towards the gate. He smiled widely at the site, all of his pain fleeing him in his moment of happiness.

"Jols," he cried to the servant before the Roman guards could make out the on-coming knights, "Jols, they've returned!" He stayed at the gate, watching as they drew nearer. Jols came running out of the barn with a brush in one hand.

"They are well, Lancelot? You can see them?"

"Just barely," said Lancelot though his voice held enthusiasm. "They're riding hard." Townspeople had exited their houses at Lancelot's words and were now standing anxiously by the gates. Lancelot strained to make out the people riding. He instantly saw Arthur's red cape and noticed the woman sitting in front of him. He smiled and walked swiftly down the steps to await their entrance.

Bors entered first with a roar and a fist to his shield. He dismounted quickly, tossing his stallion's reins to a squire and embracing Vanora and his children; Tristan slipped in quietly and went swiftly to the barns to untack and wash his horse; Dagonet entered silently, and was quickly detained by Bors who was shuffling him off to the bar with Vanora on his arm; Gawain and Galahad rode in and handed off their reins as well, ready for a long, cool drink; and in came Arthur last with Gaia poised in front of him. She was half asleep from exhaustion, but was jerked to life at Lancelot's voice.

"Gaia," he said sternly, "you should not have gone! You could have been killed and you are still ill!" Gaia only smiled as Arthur dismounted and helped her to do the same. Lancelot stood towering above her with a frown on his face as Arthur led his horse to the stables.

"I could use an ale," she said with a glance to the pub. Lancelot's stern emotion faded and he nearly smiled.

"You were born to be a knight."

Gaia sat at a large round table in pub with a mug in her hand, watching as the lights from the candles danced on the walls. Her every limp ached and she was happy to be back to the safety of the fort again. She realized now what a fool's decision it was to go to Arthur, but she was eager to fight and eager to repay him for his kindness. She glanced around the room at the faces of her knights, and sighed happily, perfectly content at being here. Lancelot, and Tristan, who had returned quickly from the barn and willingly accepted a drink, sat on each side of her while Gawain and Galahad stood and Bors and Dagonet sat at the bar. It was in the middle of the night, probably well into the morning hours, and the pub was empty save for the knights. They forgot about the oncoming battle with the Woads and spoke of what their lives would be like after their fifteen year service to Rome was over.

"What do you plan, Gawain," asked Gaia with sudden curiosity. Gawain took a long sip from his mug and looked at her thoughtfully.

"I think of it often," he replied eyeing his ale with happiness, "though I have no plan for my life. It will seem so empty and without meaning when I am no longer fighting."

"I'll be happy to have no meaning in my life," voiced Galahad. "I often hope I will wake up and this will all have been a dream."

"A nightmare, you mean," added Lancelot. Galahad raised his mug in agreement and took a long swig.

"What about you, Gaia," asked Gawain with a keen glance to her. "What will you do when you are well?"

"I propose that I stay with you men until the end of your charge," she said with eyes staring into space and a blank thoughtful expression upon her pale face. She pushed a shard of hair from her face with an annoyed sigh. All were still dressed in their fighting garb and none had ventured to bathe before a drink. She still wore her Woad outfit, though Arthur had draped his crimson cape over her shoulders to fight the nighttime chill, and she still carried the stench from the corpse of Raenus. The knights looked surprised at her words, but remained silent. She flushed a bit at their stares. "I see nowhere else for me to go."

"Why would you stay when you are free," asked Tristan with a raised eyebrow. Gaia opened her mouth, but it was Lancelot who spoke next, a smirk upon his face.

"She plans to stay with us because though the days are long and hard and the battles weary, I am a good enough lover to satisfy her," he said as he grabbed Gaia playfully by the waist, pulling her and sitting her on his lap much like he had done with the red-haired bar maid. The room erupted in a chorus of laughter and Gaia felt her face turn crimson. She was taken aback by his move, but was too full of drink to take him seriously. However, she felt he was certainly pushing his boundaries when he began to kiss her neck. She slapped his face, perhaps a little too hard, and her hand and arm began to sear with pain. She tried not to let it show on her face, but Lancelot had noticed and instantly released her.

"You do not know, my love," she said sarcastically as she sat back in her own chair, "that when I am not warming your bed, I am warming Arthur's." The knights' laughter rose higher at the unprepared expression on Lancelot's face. She felt the warmth and redness of her face lessen as the knights jeered at Lancelot; the spotlight was no longer on her and she was happy with that. She glanced to her opposite side to see Tristan who was looking at her and laughing, and Gaia nearly gaped at him. She had never seen him laugh openly as he did now, and from the little she knew about the mysterious knight, he did not show this emotion often. She drank from her mug with happiness, ever loving her quick tongue.

"And when you are not warming Arthur's or my own bed," Lancelot questioned her humorously as he set his mug on the table and looked at her with a sly eye.

"She is warming mine," came Tristan's voice with humor. Bors nearly spewed his drink, laughing so hard that Dagonet, who had actually laughed aloud, had to hold Bors's shoulder to keep his friend from falling off of the bar stool. Galahad was clutching his stomach with laughter and he gripped Gawain's arm, Gawain of whom was laughing heartily, his drunkenness consuming him.

All of the knights knew that the little Briton girl would not share her bed with anyone, and that this was all for a laugh, therefore the color in Gaia's cheeks stayed the pale pink they always were, but she gaped at Tristan as he smiled at her. She finally let out a laugh, though surprised that he would contribute to their jocosity. She laughed louder when she noticed the acquiescent expression that was Lancelot's. She kissed his cheek sweetly and a bit mockingly, ignoring her aching muscles every time she moved. It was then that she noticed Arthur in the doorway, and was relieved to see him laughing as well.

"Tristan," came Galahad's voice finally as the laughter died away, "I have not heard such humor come from you in the fourteen years of our acquaintance!" Tristan didn't speak, but a small, knowing smile was upon his face.

"Aye," said Bors in a rumbling chuckle, "and me may very well never hear it again."

Tristan ignored the jeers and, with a small nod of his head, rose to leave. The knights broke into various boos and calls as he walked out the door, laughing despite himself. Gaia smiled at the scout, then turned to acknowledge the others before going off to her quarters. Smiling inwardly, she thought of how quickly the bond between these knights and herself was growing, and she was willing to do anything to keep it this way.

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_**A/N:** Whee! I little bit of humor to contrast with the drama. Not much of a cliff-hanger like last chapter, huh? I don't like ending every chapter like that, so I finished this one with a lighter note. I think it lightens the story a bit. Anyway, I appreciate the 71 reviews! Woohoo! You guys rock, keep 'em coming._


	16. XVI

_**A/N:** I want to take a quick moment to acknowledge the religion factor of this story. I, like Gaia, am a Christian, but I do not disdain non-Christians, and the actions and/or beliefs of the Sarmatian knights as pagans are not meant to be, in any way, a relection on non-Christians. I admit that I write these men in a bit of an obstinate fashion, but that is only because that was the way their behavior came off in the film.Alright, now that I got that out..._

_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but Gaia, who is an original character created completely by myself._

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Days went by and Tristan had rode out every morn and every evening in an attempt to unravel Merlin's plans, or to find some hint of when he would attack, but to no avail. It was as if the Woads were a myth in Britain, and after nearly a fortnight of quiet anticipation, Gaia began to get unnerved. She and the knights had been spending their time nursing wounds and healing bones, and she now felt like she could take on Merlin himself. She decided she could no longer wait for his attack, and decided to make herself useful and accompany Tristan on his next morning out. She awoke at first light and dressed quickly in her only sensible outfit for scouts, her paladin clothing. Though it pained her heart to wear the clothing of the barbarian's, she had trained herself to scout like a panther and a panther did not move well in a gown. Thus, the only option she had was this outfit. After dressing, she tied back her shards of deep chocolate hair with a bodkin and made her way hastily to the barn behind the tavern.

She smiled to herself when she entered the barn and noticed Tristan's stallion was still in his stall. She quickly brushed the horse that Jols had offered her the day she left with Tristan, a chestnut mare by the name of Latona. She was tall, probably 16h, and had a beautiful white star sat directly between her eyes, which were covered with a large, red forelock. She marveled at the animal, awed that a horse could be so beautiful. She felt an instant connection with this equine, and was certain that her ride would be an enjoyable one. She did not normally ride to scout, preferring to climb the trees and use the earth, but she imagined that Tristan would be hard to keep up with on foot, and instantaneously decided that riding was the better choice. She did not plan to ride with a saddle, however, for she was not accustomed to the luxury and was much more comfortable bareback.

After brushing the mare in her stall, Gaia found a bridle in the small tack room and quickly adjusted it to the horses face, warming the bit in her hands from the cold morning air before she put it in Latona's mouth.

"Going for a ride," asked a quiet voice behind her, and Gaia instantly registered it as Tristan's. She turned and smiled at him, a bit intimidated by him as she always was. He was holding a saddle and making his way to his horse's stall without stopping to stare at her.

"I thought I'd ride with you today," she called innocently. Tristan's surprised face appeared at Latona's stall door as she finished bridling her, and she jumped at seeing the two beautiful, nonetheless violent, eyes.

"I can't bare you," he said quickly, but he knew she would argue. Still, he stood in the doorway with his arms resting on the door and wall, his eyebrows raised and his eyes curious.

"You do not have to _bare_ me, Sir Tristan," she said a bit gruffly, though it was clearly to make an attempt to look rough, and Tristan saw through it quickly. "I can keep up with you, I am certain. I told you I was a scout for my father, didn't I?" Tristan's eyes grew slightly cold at her last words and she studied the bridle with nervousness. "That is," she muttered as he continued to stare, "I trained myself, of course. His scouts are barbaric, as he is. Damn him, damn him always." She glared at the ground for a long moment and Tristan still stared at her before silently turning and making his way to his horse's stall. "Does that mean I can come, then," she asked, a bit jocosely, as he disappeared. He did not speak but only seconds later he was standing by Latona's stall, but this time with his stallion's reins in one hand.

"Ready, then?" His thin lips were curved into a small smile. She beamed at him and quickly led the mare from her stall.

Gaia followed Tristan silently from the barn, a smile upon her face. Some of the other knights had risen and were surprised to see her with a horse. Lancelot was among them and he approached her with raised eyebrows.

"What is this," he asked with a laugh as he watched her throw Latona's reins over her neck.

"Shut your mouth and aide me in getting on this immensely tall horse, will you?" Gaia's tone was short, but playful and Lancelot willingly held her leg and boosted her onto the horse. His hand was on the horse's shoulder as he looked into her eyes with seriousness, and nervousness took over her, wondering if something or someone had gone ill.

"I was told of how you sought retribution for my injury," he said softly.

"I suppose you were, then, informed that I failed," she asked, coldness stinging her words as she saw the corpse of Raenus in her head.

"Arthur told me." Gaia's eyes filled with tears at the memory, and she mentally cursed the Woad scout once more. Lancelot saw this, and quickly took her hand as it rested on Latona's withers.

"You did not have to fulfill your intention," he said with incredible softness in his voice, "that you risked your life in order to seek vengeance is enough." She managed a smile and turned her attention to Tristan, blocking out the images of the fight and trying to forget the entire thing.

"Tristan has agreed to you riding with him," Lancelot asked with a smirk as he removed his hand, understanding her desire, and folding his arms. He raised an eyebrow mock-incredulously.

"You sound surprised, Sir Knight," she retorted in mock outrage as she began to relax and forget the nightmares of Hadrian's Wall. "Do you think me unable to equatate?" Lancelot laughed aloud and inclined his head gallantly.

"Be safe, Lady," was all he said and he walked to the armory.

She smiled after him and turned to Tristan who was mounting his own horse and speaking softly to his hawk. Then he lifted his arm and the hawk flew into the sky. He glanced at Gaia as she stared at him in awe of his ability to converse with the bird like he did. The shadow of a smirk appeared on his face, but he hid it with a quick turn of the head. He spurred his horse forward, encouraging him to canter, and he did so willingly. Gaia quickly followed and they cantered swiftly out of the northern gates, Tristan throwing an occasional glance back to see how she fared.

Tristan rode swiftly, and Gaia had no problem keeping up with him even though he had the added support of a saddle and stirrups and she merely held onto the horse with her legs. He was surprised by her ability, though he figured that he should not be surprised by anything concerning her anymore. They galloped straight away from the fortress heading north, and then Tristan slowed. He turned his horse around and waited for her, though he did not wait long, she had been just behind him.

Gaia looked at him with curiosity as he stopped and turned back to face the fortress. She halted Latona next to his stallion, and looked at the fort in the west. It was truly beautiful, and unlike anything she had ever seen, having lived on the land for her whole life.

Tristan turned his eyes to the forest in the northeast with a flash and Gaia quickly followed his gaze, though she saw nothing. Within seconds he had whipped out his bow and fired an arrow. It was just before the arrow reached it's target that she saw him. A blue sparkle in the deep green of the trees in the faint daylight allowed from Britain's clouded skies Undoubtedly a Woad scout sent by Merlin.

She watched with admiration of Tristan's skill as his arrow embedded itself in the scout's left leg and he screamed in agony, falling from the tree and landing with a sickening thud after hitting two branches on his way down. Tristan discerned that his prey had received at least two broken limps from the fall.

"Like I said," came Gaia's voice as they both stared unflinchingly at the empty tree and dying form on the ground beside it, "just like a machine." She noticed the shadow of a smile appear on his face and she, herself, smiled inwardly.

"We'll be going into the forest deeply," he warned her, his low rumbling voice like music to her ears. He turned and shot her a look that seemed to be asking her if she was really up for the challenge. She only smiled.

"Lead on," she replied, fighting to ignore the fact that the last time she had been in the woods, she had been being beaten. It was then that she realized his glance and warning had been for that reason and not the physical taxing to come.

Tristan spurred his horse forward with all haste and no warning. Gaia followed him swiftly, Latona's exceptionally long Arabian legs quickly closing the gap between them. She had easily caught up with Tristan's stallion as they neared the spot where the Woad scout had fallen.

Gaia dismounted quickly after seeing the man and recognizing him as Heundt, a fellow scout, and the favorite son of Merlin. She walked swiftly to her half-brother and his eyes widened when he saw her. He lay on the ground grasping his wounded leg. Tristan rode up behind Gaia, but stayed on his horse, watching her curiously. She took Heundt's hand and smiled at him as he reached a bloodied hand to touch her cheek. She did not flinch at the blood that stained her face; she ignored it completely.

"Gaia," he whispered slowly through his agony. "I would think you were dead and I am seeing your angelic form." He spoke in their native tongue and Tristan slowly discerned what he had said.

"I am well," Gaia replied softly, "but I am now indebted to Arthur Castus, Heundt. He is a Christian man, he took me in, and I will fight for him, against our father, and against your people." His eyes did not turn cold, he only smiled up at her.

"You make your mother proud, then, and fulfill her every wish for you," he breathed.

An easy silence fell between Gaia and her kin, and she stayed kneeling by his side until finally, with one last heave of air, he was only a still form. She felt the tears that had been secretly welling in her eyes to fall down her blood-stained cheeks as she rose and kissed the man's forehead.

"I am not learned of the Sarmatian and Roman customs," Gaia said as she turned to Tristan and attempted to brush away the tears, "do we leave him here?"

Tristan looked at her in silent thought. It seemed like they did, but he felt for her and did not want to see her leave her brother to rot. "I.." his voice trailed as, for what seemed like the first time, he was truly taken aback and uncertain of the right words.

She nodded in understanding and swung herself upon Latona's chestnut back. "Lead the way, my brave knight," she gestured dramatically into the woods and Tristan allowed a chuckle to escape his lips, a rare occasion.

They walked slowly so that they could catch glimpses anywhere and everywhere, and Gaia wondered if now would be the opportune moment to question Tristan's bold comment nights before. He looked straight into the wilderness and up the beaten path, Latona following his steed on the left and back slightly as to give each rider plenty of room for using their bows, should the occasion arise.

"Tristan," she question softly, nearly a whisper in the still of the woods.

"Yes," he answered, his eyes not moving from wood and path.

"I wondered," she began uncertainly, "about the night of our return. When you told Lancelot I warmed your bed." He laughed heartily at the recollection and turned smiling eyes upon her.

"That was something, to see his face fall in such a way." He could tell she was curious as to why he had said it, and he answered her unasked question. "It is rare for me to be vocal, Gaia, but I felt it would make for some laughter." Gaia still looked uncertain and she stared at Latona's ears. "Something else bothers you," he goaded. After a time, she finally answered.

"Bors said something the night Merlin preformed the _mírë_," she said slowly, looking down at her hands on Latona's withers. "He said you were taken with me; that I needed to stay at the fort in order to give you something to return to." Her voice drifted off as she considered that Bors had also mentioned Lancelot in the sentence, but for this occasion she omitted it. She slowly raised her eyes to see the scout's reaction, though she kept he head down-turned. He was smiling! She raised her head in surprise as he let out a laugh and she couldn't help but laugh with him.

"I figured he'd noticed it," he replied with a wink. Gaia beamed at his words, and they rode on in pleased silence, occasionally laughing in recollection.

* * *

_**A/N:** Wow, no cliffhangers in this one! A quick thanks to Cardeia for her very insightful reviews! I'll do my best to space out the fight sequences a bit. Anyway, more to come soon. Keep up the great reviews. Thanks again to everybody!_


	17. XVII

_**A/N:** Ah, Cardeia, you've found my secret. Yes, I did ride horses. For about eight years. I owned two horses in that time (both half-Arabians), and I showed saddleseat (one was country and one was english, if you're into that). Glad you liked the chapter. T__his is an incredibly short chapter, but I couldn'twrite any more into it(you'll see why). I really wasn't expecting any reviews when__I posted the story. You can, then, imagine my excitement when I see "81" on my screen! Thanks so much!_

* * *

Tristan and Gaia rode through the woods heading northeast of Badon Hill The sun was shining steadily outside the wall of trees, though the two scouts never saw a trace of it. The trees were thick and broad and showed no mercy on those who longed to see the bright blue of the sky. They road in silence as they surveyed the lands. Neither had seen any sign of life until Tristan's hawk returned to him from further north and Tristan peered, with a slight gleam in his eye, up the path.

'What do you suppose-" Gaia began to whisper, but she was cut off by Tristan's finger over his lips in a warning. She sat on Latona's back in silence as she peered ahead as well, squinting her eyes and stretching her neck, but to no avail. Tristan seemed to relax, but his eyes stayed on the path ahead.

"There's someone up there. A Woad, no doubt, but why don't they shoot?" He spoke in a whisper that Gaia strained to hear. She looked up the path with raised eyebrows.

"Bloody hell," she whispered keenly, "I can't see a thing. But, then, I'm not used to scouting from here," she pointed down to her horse, but for no true reason, because both she and Tristan were staring intently up the road.

"You should turn back," Tristan said quickly as he eased his bow from the holder on the saddle and discreetly took an arrow from the quiver on his back. "Inform Arthur-"

"You honestly think I'll leave you like this," she cut him off in surprise, and he raised an eyebrow, his eyes still staring ahead. "You should know me better than that, Sir Tristan."

"Very well," he said with a sigh. "Stay here, then, and don't move unless you see the hawk. Be wary, keep an eye on the northern path at all times."

"Where do you intend-" But she never received an answer. Tristan goaded his horse quickly and the horse, taken back but willing, lunged forward at a quick canter, then sped to a hand-gallop, and finally, a gallop. Gaia gaped at him as he vanished up the path, aiming his arrow at some unseen enemy.

* * *

Tristan quietly tore up the path, his horses hooves beating on the muddy ground as fast as they could, pounding out the beats of the gallop. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the form that he could just see through the trees. Painted in the trademarked blue dye of the people, he could discern in an instant that the man was a Woad. He held a bow in his hand, but did not aim. Tristan's first thought was that it might have been a trap, and his thoughts were certainly not dashed when he spotted a second archer in a tree in the distance. He halted his horse immediately and his eyes swept through the forest, catching glimpses of Woads nearly everywhere; there were at least one hundred.

Slowly, Tristan dismounted his stallion, unsheathing his curved Sarmatian blade. The horse turned and cantered back in the direction of Gaia, and Tristan smiled inwardly at the brains of the animal. He stared around as the Woads came into view, most on the ground, but several could be seen in the trees. He breathed deeply, fighting back the anticipation and preparing himself for a battle.

The first Woad lunged at Tristan unceremoniously, and Tristan dismembered him quickly. The blue-dyed man, armless and wailing, fell to the ground, screaming in agony as the next Woad approached Tristan. The archers were saving their arrows, knowing all too well that they had few to use and none to waste.

Tristan swung his sword again and severed the man's head, which rolled to the ground at his feet and he kicked it with force into a tree where it knocked an unaware archer to the ground, breaking his neck. The Woads stared at the killer, fear glazing over their eyes, but continued to fight him, each taking a deep breath before lunging, hoping it would not be their last.

Gaia gaped as Tristan disappeared deep within the woods south of Hadrian's Wall. She looked nervously around, intimidated and frightened by Tristan's stern tone. For what seemed like an eternity, she sat in stilled silence on Latona's back. The chestnut mare seemed careless of the situation, and merely reached out to munch on leaves off a nearby bush.

Finally, Gaia heard hoof beats and her brown eyes shot up, narrowing in attempt to see the rider. Her mouth fell open when she saw Tristan's horse cantering, riderless, up the path and whinnying loudly. Latona's nostrils flared and she let out an ear-piercing neigh to the other animal as he approached. Gaia immediately dismounted and took the stallion's reins. She looked around in terror, not knowing where to turn. Finally, she nodded to herself in resolve.

Taking the two horses, she turned back east to the fort, whispering to Latona as she did. The mare seemed to understand; when Gaia released the reins from her hand, the mare took off towards the parapets of the fortress, running at a speed that would be unmanageable if she had still bared a rider. The stallion followed swiftly, and Gaia stood in the woods, barefoot with only her Woad clothing, watching as the two horses disappeared. She took a deep breath, and turned to walk swiftly down the path to where she would hopefully find a safe and unscathed Tristan.

* * *

"Do you think we should go after them?" Galahad sat in the pub with the four other knights and their commander. Arthur was pacing furiously, throwing glances out the door to the east gates on occasion. No one answered Galahad; it was nearly sundown and there had been no sign of the two scouts since the left at first light.

Lancelot ran a hand through his hair with impatience. He glanced to Arthur every time he looked out the door, and frowned when Arthur would continue his pacing. Gawain stood leaning on a board in silence, one hand grasping a mug of ale, the other with a strong hold on his axe while Bors mouthed off over and over again about how Tristan shouldn't have allowed Gaia to scout with him. Dagonet did not speak, but occasionally threw Bors a stern look, quieting him for the moment. The knights all turned their heads to Arthur at Galahad's words, but the commander did not acknowledge his knight, not even lifting his head, continuing his pacing.

"Arthur, this is insane," Lancelot spoke quietly, his head resting in his hand. "Night is near, and they will undoubtedly be lost in the forest if we do not make haste!"

Arthur turned weary eyes upon Lancelot as he walked to his side. Arthur bent down to the sitting knight's ear and spoke so no one else could hear. "I know you care for her safety, but do not be so hard-headed as to assume you are the only one."

"Then why don't you _do_ something," Lancelot whispered back, his voice nearly a growl.

Arthur did not answer. His eyes shot up at the sound of the Roman guard's voice from the east gate.

"Two steeds approach," he bellowed from the battlements. "Riderless."

Arthur's face lost nearly all its color as he ran out the door, his five knights at his heels. There was pandemonium as word passed quickly around and people from the town fled into the courtyard, curious and fearful. There was a loud creaking as the east gates were lowered, and the two horses pranced in happily, tossing their heads. Jols quickly took the reins of the two steeds and ushered them to the barn, a look of horror on his face. The five knights stared at their Roman commander with little or no patience while he quickly tried to discern his options.

"We leave as soon as possible," he said finally, turning and walking swiftly to the barn. Galahad stared after him, his face grim, and he slowly turned his gaze to the east gates and the forest beyond.

"They are surely dead" he muttered to himself. He received a good smack upside the head and turned to see Gawain standing behind him.

"Watch your tongue," Gawain warned irritably, then his voice softened as he spoke with a sigh of hope, "I only hope to prove you wrong."

* * *

_**A/N:** Yes, I'm back to the cliff-hangers. I couldn't resist. I promise I won't leave you all in the dark for long! Keep the wonderful reviews coming!_


	18. XVIII

_**A/N:** Wow, this is a quick update! But it seems like everyone's r'n'r-ed so on we go! Yeah, the kicking of the Woad head by Tristan in the last chapter was a bit bold, but I took inspiration for the battle scenes from Frank Thompson's novel (which was based on the film's script). He has a rather brutal way of describing the scenes (alot of "protruding" and "embedding" and all kinds of good stuff). I won't provide spoilers in case anyone wants to read it, but the whole kicking of the head thing (not hitting the other Woad with it, just the kicking of the head) is done by Arthur at one point...Ouch! Anyway, on with the tale..._

* * *

Gaia ran quickly through the trees, the cries of Woads ringing in her ears as she drew nearer to the battle. Her heart was racing, hoping that Tristan was unharmed. She felt the ground under her bare feet, gripping it like the scout she was, her hand grasping at trees as she passed, feeling the earth around her and recalling the techniques she had taught herself. Finally, she could hear the clash of swords and see the faint forms of Woads in the distance. Upon the sea of blue-green men, there was an unpainted shadow and Gaia let out a sigh of relief. Not wanting to loose the small element of surprise that she had, she crept noiselessly through the woods and up a tree where one of many archers was firing at Tristan. She climbed with grace and agility, reaching the top and appearing behind the archer. She silently took a knife from a small sheath wrapped on her thigh and prepared herself. Then, with a swift movement, she grabbed the man's quiver and yanked it towards her, moving the hand with the knife swiftly across his neck. He had no time to scream, no time to think. His death came swiftly. Removing his quiver, Gaia through the lifeless body out of the tree and took up her own place on a branch, surveying the battle below her.

Tristan was fighting well, never tiring, and not acknowledging the fact that he was incredibly outnumbered. He had maimed several Woads to the point of no point in their lives, and he had killed far too many for Gaia to count. She smiled as she watched the "machine" work. He was beautiful, graceful, yet brutal. Bringing his sword down upon another Woad's neck, he looked up to the archer that was not painted in blue and threw her a knowing smile.

Gaia smiled in surprise and wondered how he had noticed her arrival, but dismissed the thoughts as she focused on the battle below. She took an arrow from the dead Woad's quiver and loaded it into her bow, aiming with haste and releasing it upon a Woad who was attempting to behead the swift knight. Though she had little time to aim, the arrow found its way to the neck of its target and the Woad fell to the ground, his screams of agony drowned out by the furious yells of his people as their eyes followed the path of the arrow to Gaia.

Her eyes shone with fright for but a moment and then began to fervidly and mercilessly unleash her wrath in a slew of arrows while Tristan fought with a new passion. The Woads were being diminished, their numbers fading by the second. Darkness slowly took over as the sun set outside the ceiling of trees, and the targets were growing fainter for Gaia to see.

"Damn!" she screamed in frustration, unable to see the knight she was attempting to protect, and he unable to see her. The blue dye, however, reflected the very faint light of the moon and Gaia knew that Tristan could see his attackers with ease. Carefully, she removed the dagger from the sheath on her thigh once more and made her way down the tree. The dead body was still lifeless on the ground and she quickly removed his British dagger, as well. She smiled for a moment, considering that she would be fighting in Lancelot's style, only with daggers in stead of swords, then dove into the throng of Woads, shrieking Bors' Sarmatian war cry. Tristan held back a laugh as he heard her scream in the dim moonlight, thinking that her version of the cry was much more pleasing to the ears than that of his fellow knight.

* * *

Five Sarmatian knights, along with their Roman commander, rode out of the east gates of the fort at Hadrian's Wall, galloping hastily towards the woods, swords unsheathed, eyes flashing with malevolence. Lancelot had already dropped his reins, steering his horse solely with his thighs and calves, expertly applying pressure at the precise moment, and he swung his blades around impatiently, not at all abashed by the fast speed of the animal and maintaining his balance perfectly. Gawain rode with his axe at his side, holding both reins in one hand, applying pressure with his fingers in order to steer; Dagonet did the same. Bors, Galahad, and Arthur rode with their swords unsheathed and resting on the pommel of the saddle, steering in the same manner as Gawain and Dagonet. Upon entering the forest, the world darkened and there was no sign or sound of battle.

"Arthur," called Dagonet from a distance on the outskirts of the forest. Arthur quickly moved his horse to Dagonet who was now dismounted and kneeling by a form. The other knights followed, fear rising in them that the lifeless body next to Dagonet could be Tristan or Gaia. They breathed a sigh as Arthur did not seem unnerved by the form, only stared down at him with a stone glare.

"There are - or were - Woads in this forest," he said finally, his eyes swiftly taking in the forest, attempting to spy any of Merlin's scouts. "Let us continue on," he said finally, nodding his head in resolve. He moved his horse deeper into the forest, the other knights following just behind him, weapons at the ready.

* * *

Gaia's every muscle was burning as she stared at the ground around her, littered with blue corpses, blood stained on nearly every inch of ground. She looked wearily at Tristan, who was sheathing his sword after beheading the last of the Woads. He did not look like he had just fought throughout the night, save for the blood splattered all over him. He turned to the girl with a small smile, which she returned.

"No injuries?" he asked her as he walked over to her, examining her arms and legs with concern. She held out her arms as he looked and she beamed proudly.

"Not a one," she said happily. "Only minor bruises." He smirked, but continued to look at her arms, bending them to assure himself nothing was broken. As she allowed this, she looked at his arms and gasped as she saw a bloody gash on his right bicep. "Bloody hell," she whispered as she noticed it, shrugging off his touch and examining his arm, herself. He winced as she touched it and she gaped at him with concern.

"It's deep," he said knowingly, "I'm aware of it. Sneaky little git gave it to me when I was busy noticing you in the tree," he added at her questioning look. Then, with a chuckle, he said, "you certainly have no mercy for them, do you?" She allowed a small smile as she released his arm slowly.

"Of course I do, Tristan," she said solemnly. "I, willingly, lack the bloodlust of those I was born to."

"Don't be so willing," he replied seriously. "This was only the beginning." Gaia threw him a surprised look as they walked slowly down the path back to the fortress. "I assume that was just another attempt of Merlin's to kill us off. There will be more."

"He won't rest 'til he's seen me snuff it, I swear!" Tristan chuckled at her words, but hid it well. "So, he'll undoubtedly send a legion or two to the fort, then?" she asked. Tristan nodded his head in silent thought.

"Knowing my commander, Arthur has wandered out here in an attempt to find us," he mumbled finally, discreetly grasping his arm and ignoring the searing pain he felt. "If they didn't stay on the path, they'll be impossible to find until daylight."

"That shouldn't be long," Gaia said as she glanced upwards through the trees. Tristan gave her a surprised look, wondering how she could tell what time of the night - or morning, for that matter - when the trees were unflinchingly crowded and thick. "I've lived in the forest all my life, remember," she said with a knowing smile.

They walked for what seemed like an eternity, until the voices of Arthur and his knights - mainly Bors' incessant cursing - could be heard in the distance. Gaia glanced to Tristan who was holding his shoulder now with less discretion, and upon his nod of approval, she darted forward.

"Arthur," she called to the darkness. "Arthur! Tristan is injured!" Arthur's horse came around the bend in the path far too fast, nearly running Gaia over. He dismounted in the blink of an eye and was at Tristan's side, examining the wound.

"Dagonet!" he called, anxiously. The tall knight came over swiftly, dismounting his horse and leaving the reins over his neck. The horse obediently stood still as his master ran to Arthur and Tristan. Dagonet's eyes widened as he saw the gash on the scout's arm, and he quickly looked to Arthur in concern.

"He needs to get back to the fort. Now." Fear coated Dagonet's voice, and all the other knights remained silent, not even acknowledging Gaia, though she did not even notice the lack of attention, her brain focused solely on Tristan, who scoffed at Dagonet's words.

"It's not that bad," he said in a reassuring tone, his eyes directed to Gaia's horrified face.

"If it does not get taken care of, Tristan," Dagonet said in an irritated tone, "it could need to be amputated."

Tristan did not flinch, did not look unabashed, in the least. He stared at Dagonet with annoyance, and shook his arm as if he had only been stung by a bee.

"I'm fine," he said shortly, making to walk up the path.

"Tristan, take my horse," Galahad called to him. Tristan looked at the young knight for a moment, seeming to consider the offer. Galahad did not wait for a reply, but dismounted and handed Tristan the reins. Tristan swung himself onto the horse and goaded it on, nodding his thanks to Galahad, who walked on by his horse. Gaia walked to where Arthur and Dagonet were mounting their steeds, a look of terror and concern on her face.

"Will he be alright?" she asked, not looking for the truth, but a reassuring affirmation. She did not receive it.

"He will, if we get him back, and with haste," was Dagonet's reply as he goaded his horse on. Arthur was about to mount his horse, but removed his foot from the stirrup, offering the saddle to Gaia. Though she was weary, she did not want the Roman commander to be seen walking into the Roman fortress while she, a British ex-Woad, rode on top of his stallion. She waved him off with a sweet smile and made to walk past him, but he stopped her, standing slightly in front of her.

"You have been through too much," he said sternly as he motioned to his horse again. "Ride." She gave in, nodding wearily and throwing herself atop the large horse. He held the reins and led the horse forward while she sat, closing her eyes slightly and resting her tired muscles. Arthur watched her for a moment before turning his eyes to the road. "You seem unharmed," he said at last. She smiled slightly and opened her eyes again, catching him as he had tried to steal another glance at her.

"No, I was not injured," she said, then related the entire story to Arthur; how she had followed Tristan when his horse appeared without him, how she had found the scout and blended with the Woads before firing. When she finished, he was nearly beaming, nodding his head and thinking that the two scouts were undoubtedly a fine match, but unsure of what her reaction would be if he voiced it.

"That's some story," came Lancelot's voice and Gaia turned to see him riding on her right, smiling smugly, which made her stifle a blush, as she always did when she was around him. "Bors," he called, barely turning his head in acknowledgment of the man riding behind him, "are you proud of our little Briton?"

"'course I am," he replied happily. "You'll be sure to tell my Gilly your story, won't you, Gai'?"

"All the gory details," she retorted with a laugh, not truly planning on telling the child any of the night's event.

"And will you tend to Tristan's wounds," Lancelot asked in almost a whisper, not allowing anyone else to hear him. "I'm sure he would be pleased to have company in the wee small hours."

"Sir Lancelot," Gaia said coyly, "are you attempting to draw out an indiscretion from my pure mouth?"

"The thought never crossed my mind, darling," he replied with a haughty smile.

* * *

_**A/N:** This was a rather long chapter, maybe the longest, but I couldn't help it. It just kept coming! Gaia's last line was sort of inspired by Reese Witherspoon as Becky Sharp in Vanity Fair. I believe her exact line in the film was, "Are you trying to steer me towards an indiscretion" and I loved the line, so I wanted to put some form of it in here. Et viola! I'll be doing that with quotes from Phantom of the Opera (the film) and A Knight's Tale. Don't worry, I won't do it often. Think of it as an "inside joke" to those who have seen the films. You'll have to let me know if you spot them. :wink: Thanks for the beautiful reviews, you guys! You rock my socks!_


	19. XIX

_**A/N:** I'm very excited about this chapter! I can't wait to see what my dear reviewers think of it. There's a certain something-a question, of sorts-that many have awaited the answer to, and it will be revealed. Finally! Ah, but you must read on to see for yourself..._

* * *

Upon entering the walls of the small fort, Arthur immediately sent Jols to wake Doctor Mancomn while he, himself, helped Dagonet to bring the wounded Tristan to his bedchamber, Tristan fighting them the whole time, cursing and saying that he was perfectly well. Gaia took Latona to the barn, quickly untacking and bathing her before glancing at her water bowl and hay supply. With a small nod of affirmation to herself, she left the barn and made her way to her room to bathe herself.

It was a relief to pour the pitcher of water over her head and feel the blood and leaves wash away from her dark shards of hair. Her paladin clothing sat in a small heap on the stone floor beside her and she made a mental note to burn them and delete the memories that came along with them.

Quickly drying herself and wrapping a large crimson robe around her, she crept out into the hall, which was lit with the light of day, though the sun was blocked by clouds, as it always seemed to be.

"Gaia," came a soft voice from behind her and she turned quickly to see Gawain leaning on the stone wall of the hallway, a smile upon his face. She walked back to him and threw him a curious look. "Could you use a laugh?"

She nodded a little uncertainly, and followed him as he turned and walked up the hallway, through a door, up a flight of cold, stone steps, and down another hallway. Gaia was fascinated at how the steps curved in such a precise way, wondering how man could build such a beautiful thing as this fortress. She walked behind Gawain and slowed as he slowed.

He knocked on a large door before opening it and peering in. She could see his shoulders begin to shake with laughter as he entered, and she, herself, broke into a fit of giggles upon seeing the sight.

There, in a large canopied bed, lay the brave Tristan with Dagonet pinning his feet to the bed and Arthur pinning his hands. He squirmed under their pressure as Doctor Mancomn sewed shut the wound. It was a sight to see the seemingly fearless knight behave in such a childish way, but Gaia stifled her laughter when Arthur shot her an aggravated look. Gawain, however, still shook violently with laughter, though not allowing it to escape his mouth. They watched as Dr. Mancomn finished stitching the wound and Arthur and Dagonet released the scout, taking a few steps back. He lay on the bed motionless, staring coldly at the canopy above him.

"Damn," he said finally as he put a hand to his arm. "It didn't hurt that much when I got the bloody thing!" His words revealed another fit of laughter from Gaia and Gawain, as they nearly snorted, trying to contain themselves. Dagonet allowed himself a small smile, but Arthur's face remained placid.

"You've no luck, Sir Tristan," Gaia said after a while, finally becoming serious and ignoring-or trying to ignore-the constant snorts and laughs from Gawain. "That arrow pierced your right arm. You'll have difficulty firing." He nodded, not looking in her direction, but sitting up in the bed and bending his arm gingerly.

"If he wants to see another battle, he won't be firing at all," said Mancomn as he eyed Gaia with disdain. He had not truly taken to her, unnerved by her background and a bit intimidated by the stories of how well she fought that he had overheard from Bors. "I've sewn it up, but it is not healed. He will need a fortnight of rest, at the least." Gaia watched as Tristan's eyes burned at the doctor's words. He was much like his hawk and could not, under any circumstances, be kept inside a fortress for two weeks' time. He thumped back onto the bed and glared at the canopy again. There was silence for a long moment as Doctor Mancomn and Arthur whispered intently about Tristan's injury. They walked out of the room as they spoke, Dagonet following close behind. Gawain walked to Tristan and clapped him on his uninjured shoulder.

"Take care," he said jocosely, "what good will a one-armed scout do us?" Tristan threw him a dirty look, which Gawain only snorted at, nodding to Gaia and making his way to the door. Gaia stared at Tristan in silence for only a moment before their eyes met. Though he acted with such petulant behavior, his eyes seemed to be warm and consoling, not in the least unnerved. It was as though he was preforming an act for Gawain's own entertainment, and Gaia felt her lips curve into a small smile as he winked at her swiftly.

"You were wise to seek me out," he whispered, not wanting Gawain to hear him. Gawain understood, turning his head to glance out of the doorway and down the hall, seemingly distracted. "If you had not lent your abilities, it could have been brutal."

Gaia waved a dismissive hand in front of her face, politely brushing away his seriousness. "It is of no consequence," she said passively, "and you would have had no problems, I am sure of it." She then inclined her head in parting. "Be well," she said with a small smile.

Tristan only nodded in return, and closed his eyes as he heard the large stone door close with a deep thud. Slowly, he drifted off to a much-needed sleep.

* * *

Arthur had spoken with Doctor Mancomn about Tristan's well-being, and found that he was well-comforted by the doctor's words. Mancomn said that, given time and rest, Tristan might be in shape for fighting in less than a fortnight. Now, Arthur walked to the round table and sat in silence, a goblet of wine in his hand. He stared around at the empty seats around him that had once been filled with enthusiastic men. He had seen so many men die in battle, and had

killed so many; he only wanted peace in the world, but it seemed so far ahead of him, so far out of reach, that he wondered if even his sons would ever grow close to achieving the goal.

He was snapped from the reverie when the doors of the large room opened to reveal Gawain and Gaia, drinks in hand. They were still laughing lightly, joking about Tristan's petulant behavior and the fact that it was, almost certainly, an act. Arthur managed a half-smile at them, but it did not reach his eyes.

"Come now, Arthur," said a slightly drunken Gawain, "will you ever retreat away from the dramatic demeanor of your people?"

"Oh, leave him be," Gaia said defensively as she sat next to the Roman commander. "He's had a difficult night, I'm sure. And these overcast skies can do naught but bring him down further."

Gawain nodded and took a seat next to Gaia. "I suppose so. They do not alter Lancelot's mood, however."

"Aye," she replied, ignoring Arthur's sulking mood entirely and acting as if it were Midsummer's Day all over again. "It takes more than clouds to alter his mood. It takes a woman and the word 'no', I should think."

Gawain laughed heartily, raising his goblet in agreement before draining it dry. Gaia saw Arthur chuckle from the corner of her eye, and smiled inwardly, happy to bring a small amount of cheer into the man's humorless life.

"Well," Gawain said sadly as he turned his empty wine goblet upside-down, "We planned to come up here to reward you with our much-sought-after company and genuinely entertaining conversation, but it seems we'll need to retreat to the pub as I've lost my main source of motive." He glanced to Gaia in mock sadness. She laughed carelessly and hung her head dramatically.

"Must I _really_ traipse _all the way_ down there _again_, Gawain?" she asked with a weary tone, a smile still upon her face as she thought it was far too difficult to try and hide it. She nodded at his laughter and patted Arthur gently on the back. "Well," she sighed, "if you feel the need for more 'sought-after company and genuinely entertaining conversation', you'll know where to find it." She stood as she spoke, but leaned down to whisper into Arthur's ear, "I'd stay, but I fear for him falling down the steps." Arthur laughed and nodded to the girl as she smiled a small smile and turned to leave, a steady hand grasping her half-empty wine goblet.

* * *

Gaia sat in the pub, her eyes watching as the nighttime rain fell forcefully onto the ground outside the open doors. Five knights engaged in a riotous mass of drunken jocosity around her, and she pushed her goblet to the other side of the table, banning drunkenness from her in an attempt to keep a watchful eye on the knights. Lancelot had, several times, caught her eye and questioned her silently, undoubtedly wondering why she had dismissed her drink.. She only waved a passive hand at him, along with a carefree smile.

As she sat in silence, her thoughts drifted to the dark scout, alone and undoubtedly asleep, inside the citadel. She did not fear for his well-being, knowing already that he had most certainly been through worst, but only hoped that her scouting skills would suffice in keeping the people of Badon Hill safe from the minions and serfs of her father. She began to feel very uncertain, a nervousness building up within her at the thoughts of what evil might ensue, should her father succeed.

She was snapped from her reverie at the sound of someone sitting in the chair next to her and she turned to see a drenched Arthur Castus set a mug of ale on the large table and send her a smile, which still did not reach his eyes, but it was nearer than it had ever been.

"Well," she said in a surprised tone, turning raised eyebrows upon him, "I see you've _finally_ taken the liberty to grace us with your presence, Arthur."

"One can only stress and reflect for so long," he said passively, sipping his ale slowly. "I've taken long enough," he added with a smile.

Gaia opened her mouth to vent out her emotions to the Roman commander, but she thought better of the situation and slowly closed her mouth, looking at the knights around as she fixed her features into a careless expression before turning back to Arthur.

"I'm happy that you decided to join us," she said finally, and this time it was her smile that did not reach her eyes. Knowing this attempt to hide ones emotions, Arthur allowed his smile to fade and his eyes to show their concern.

"What is it?"

Gaia smiled another half-smiled and, with it, added a passive wave of the hand. "It is of no consequence, I promise you." She felt the need to swiftly change the conversation, so she looked around for a possible topic. She found nothing, so her gaze fell back to Arthur. "Don't let's talk about me and my worries," she said in what was meant to be a passive tone, but it came out almost pleadingly.

Arthur nodded, by he still gazed at her with concern, and she knew he would not cease until he knew what was wrong. Feeling overwhelmed and still unwilling to express her fears to Arthur, she rose with a carefree smile.

"I'd better get to bed," she said as smoothly as possible. "Don't want to be drifting off to dreamland whilst Woads are upon our door, eh?" she added with a laugh, but it was forced, and she fled as quickly as was acceptable under the circumstances, leaving a confused Arthur to laugh and joke with his knights.

Once outside the pub, Gaia found herself losing control. She immediately began to weep and did not bother to shield herself from the rain that drenched her pale, pink robe. It was as if the rain did not matter. She walked slowly, aimlessly through the night, crying uncontrollably, her fears and anticipations overwhelming her, her insecurities consuming her. Her thoughts ran wildly through her mind, unrestrained, thoughts of her father and his seemingly twisted ways, thoughts of how he disdained her when he found her true religion, and thoughts of the knights that had saved her from an unthinkable amount of pain, suffering agony.

Her thoughts focusing on the three knights she cherished most, she recalled Arthur's kindness and love for peace, Tristan's mysteriously passionate mind set, and Lancelot's bold enjoyment for living his life. All were admirable qualities, as were the men that held them. But, now stood Gaia, raindrops falling on her head, her shambled hair mussed and her beautiful pink robe nearly ruined, receiving the affections of each man. She had but to extend a hand to any of them, and a fairytale love would ensue. That was how she assumed it would be, but to reach the fairytale she had to take the right path, and that path was blurred.

She continued to walk through the rain in the direction of the fort, her thoughts consuming her. She trudged without sight, too focused on her oncoming decision to understand where her feet were taking her. She willingly gave in to them and centered her thoughts, again on the three men; on her father; on the forthcoming battle and her scouting skills and fighting techniques, what she would do in battle against her own people once more; then returning, again, to the two Sarmatian knights and the Roman commander.

Arthur was so kind, so innocently true; Tristan was so brutally mysterious and therefore intolerably intriguing; and Lancelot was so cunningly crafty and truly beautiful. And what was to say that any of this men would have her, she wondered. Lancelot was a scoundrel and would undoubtedly take her as a concubine and nothing more, though she wondered about the night she had accompanied him to the barn before he and the others left for the north, and how his voice had been so soft. She thought of the night she had returned from the battle when he had swept her onto his lap in the pub and kissed her neck so fervently. She blushed through her tears, through the rain, as she recalled the brazen moment. Then her thoughts turned to Arthur.

Kind, caring, honorable, gallant, upright Arthur. He would risk his life for even the greatest of enemies, just as he had risked the respect of his men when he took Gaia into his care. She remembered her first true meeting with Arthur when he had fed her the meat and gave her water, when she was unable to speak and he looked upon her with smiling eyes. She remembered Midsummer's Day when he had carried her down to the pub in an attempt for the knights to see her and converse with her, knowing that they would see what he saw.

She had stopped walking and abruptly stopped her crying as she let her eyes focus on where she had mindlessly walked to. She reached to her neck and held the pendant of the Woad necklace in her hand, a small smile forming on her lips, and she rubbed it gently as she stared at the door that she stood in front of, knowing very well who was on the other side. She knocked on the door and entered when she heard Tristan acknowledge her, taking a deep breath as she prepared to tell the knight of her dreams that she had made her choice.

* * *

_**A/N:** Ah, could we see this coming? I'm sure we could.I originally had the past few chapters dripping with LancelotOC, but I took it all out for some reason of which I'm not really certain. Don't worry, I'll be posting deleted scenes and a whole bunch of other fun stuff on my general fandom site, Fandemonium, very soon. You can find the link to it in my profile. Oh, but this is not the end. No, indeed, we are far from that. We must, now, find out what Tristan will make of this Briton's love confession. Tell me, honestly, if anyone is dissapointed in Gaia's decision. I'm curious. Thanks so much!_


	20. XX

_**A/N:** Thank you so much for all of the reviews! My goodness, I've not gotten this many reviews on a single chapter before! Yes, she picked Tristan. No, it wasn't much of a surprise. I had so much TristanOC in here for two reasons: one, Arthur and Lancelot's emotions can easily be detected, but with Tristan I thought one need to read about him in pieces to really see what he's thinking. And, secondly, I decided Gaia would pick Tristan a while ago and, therefore, wanted to write them together alll the time. Anyway, enough with the banter. I only hope this will suffice, as so many of you are awaiting it. Thanks so much!_

* * *

Merlin stood in the woods just north of Hadrian's Wall, leaning on his staff as he stared blankly in thought. He turned at the sound of someone approaching and smiled as he saw a young maiden of the Woads. She did not wear paladin clothing, however, in stead she was clad in a gown of blue, loose fitting and trailing on the ground. It was as though she was a princess of the woods.

"Titania, my daughter," he said in the Woads' tongue, holding loving arms out to great here, "what news do you bring me of the Men of the citadel?"

Titania frowned slightly and narrowed her eyes as she removed herself from her father's embrace. "Their scout is injured. He suffered a blade to his right arm. I cannot tell you how long he will be recovering." She paused in thought before she added, "Are you sure this is wise, Father? Attacking the fortress itself is not something your people have not done before."

Merlin turned to her with fire in his eyes, quickly making her loose countenance from fright of him. He looked down upon her with disdain for a moment before he spoke. "My people" he reiterated. "You call them 'my people' when you, yourself, were born among them.." His voice rose with unhappiness as he continued. "They are _your_ people, daughter!"

"Yes, Milord," she muttered quickly, looking away from her father. "But," she said hastily and without pausing, "I must inquire about Gaia - I know it is of no consequence, Milord, but she _is_ my sister, and your-"

"Silence!" Merlin's voice rang in the air of the woods so violently that his daughter fell to her knees, tears quickly streaming down her terror stricken face. "You will acquiesce, or you will rebel, Titania, but you will _not_ fritter and fret to me with your concerns for that besom!"

Titania continued her weeping and held her face in her hands. To say that her father was livid would do little to describe his current demeanor. She nodded her head and cried out through the fingers across her face.

"Forgive me, Milord," she cried hastily, "I do not mean to anger you!"

"Be gone, now, from my sight," he muttered as he turned his back upon the frightened young girl. She immediately jumped to her feet and ran from her father, tears still streaming down her face. Emotions raced through her as she attempted to steady her nerves. She wondered how the man who had held her in such a sweet embrace could suddenly turn so evil.

She ran aimlessly, blinded by her tears, and was caught by the arms of another Woad: a man clad in the gear of warriors who had just returned from the fight with Tristan and Gaia.

"Titania," he whispered as he tried to look into her eyes, but she closed them as the tears still came. His hands gripped her wrists roughly and he shook her, trying his best to see her face. "My darling, what has happened?"

"No, Aeron," she cried as she pried away from his hands and continued running through the throng of Woads. Aeron only stared at his love as she fled, uneasy thoughts entering his mind.

* * *

Tristan raised an eyebrow as the ex-Woad stood in the doorway, her back turned to him as she slowly and noiselessly shut the large door to his bedchamber. She was soaked to the bone, her pink robe clinging to her as if it had been welded on, her deep chocolate hair sticking to her face in a similar fashion. Her cheeks were as pink as that of her robe, clearly she had to be frozen from the chill of Britain along with the icy rain. Tristan wondered at her for a moment, unable to discern a reason for her late visit. He rose from his bed and grabbed a blanket from a chair next to him, using his left arm as his right had been bandaged and tied and was far from useful.

She turned from the door to see him standing before her, holding out the blanket. She smiled her thanks and took it, wrapping it around her and feeling the warmth envelop her. She stole a glance at Tristan and smiled inwardly at his beauty. He wore dark tan trousers and his tunic had been removed for the examination of his wound. His dark hair still clung around his face as unceremoniously as it had always been, his tattoos highlighting his cheekbones and making him seem even more mysterious. She noticed his questioning glance when her gaze met his beautiful brown eyes, and she felt herself blush as remembrance of the her reason to be there hit her like a brick.

"I am sorry to fuss you," she said as her eyes looked around the room. Knives of various size and origin were displayed everywhere and she wondered why she had not noticed them when she had been present before with Gawain.

"What is it?" Tristan asked seriously, noticing her unease.

She managed a small smile and walked to the chair near his bed, sitting with grace as she stared blankly in front of her. He pulled a wooden chair from the other side of the reasonably large room and sat down in front of her, catching her eye and questioning her silently again.

"Alright," she said acquiescently, "This sounded so right in my head, but the words have been lost on the way to my mouth," she said laughingly. Tristan relaxed a bit at the lightness of her speech, knowing that this news must not be ill.

"Just say it," he said in nearly a whisper as he laid a reassuring hand upon hers.

Gaia finally met his gaze again and did not flinch from the fresh load of anxiety that arose at seeing his intimidating brown eyes. She let out a sigh and continued. "Arthur had been kind to me; he has shown me true sincerity and humbleness, and I could not thank him enough if I had a lifetime to do so. And, he looks upon me with his heart. He offers his love and life every time he looks into my eyes. His gallantry, his honesty, his kindness are all very admirable traits, but I view him as a brother; as a dear, dear friend." She paused just long enough to let our another small sigh. Her eyes had left Tristan's brown ones the moment she began to speak, her insecurities consuming her yet again and she now wrung her hands subconsciously and fixed her gaze on the floor.

"Lancelot," she continued hastily, "makes obvious attempts at my affections, and in my heart of hearts I have discerned that he is truthful, despite his reputation. He makes me blush on a daily basis," she added with a chuckle as she remembered the night in the pub after she had returned from battle and his unforgettable expression. "Ah, Sir Lancelot. How he loves to see me loose countenance." Her smile faded as she continued, seriously. "He is a provocation to me, as I am to him. However, I refuse to become a concubine, as I feel will most certainly be my fate if I hand him my heart so openly." Slowly, her eyes made their way back to Tristan's. She hoped against hope that he would not make her search for more words, but rather understand. Her mouth fell open and she made no attempt to close it as she saw the smile on his face. He was _entertained_ by her struggle! She felt her cheeks redden a considerable amount.

"I see where you are going," Tristan said through a noiseless laugh. She continued to gape as his lucid eyes swept over her, as if he was surveying a prize.

"You _could_ be a bit more romantic with your actions, then," she said, a bit crossly, as she looked away from him and drew the blanket around her tighter, a crimson blush arising. Tristan only laughed as he rose from his chair and walked to a table where a plethora of knives were laid out.

"I'm a bit surprised, I have to say," he commented over his shoulder, his eyebrows raising slightly.

"And why is that," she asked as she watched him sharpening the knife he had picked out of the mass of others. Her voice sounded a bit irritated; this had not gone as she had planed. Tristan acted as if they were engaging in idle conversation, and she found that irksome, especially after she had fretted over her words for what felt like an eternity.

Tristan turned to meet her gaze, a smirk still upon his face, though his eyes did not hold the mocking glaze that they had. "I never would have expected a woman to evade Lancelot's charms, for one thing."

Gaia frowned at the mention of the knight. "Tristan," she said slowly, "this is my choice."

Tristan only stared, placing the knife on the table once more. He raised his eyebrows slightly higher, but remained silent.

"_You_ are my choice." The words left her with a thrilling feeling. She felt a warmth rush through her that she had not felt before and she wondered if it was love, having never truly felt such an emotion for anyone except her mother. The feeling of sheer happiness fled her when Tristan began to laugh again. Her eyes widened, wondering why the quiet knight was suddenly so blunt.

He quickly explained as he saw her expression, "Britons must hold no propriety; shouldn't it be the man who offers the affections, and the woman who accepts them?"

Gaia smiled slightly as he walked back to her, her rosie cheeks returning to their slightly pale default. "Deal with it," she said laughingly, "and tell me you accept." The pleading in her tone was too obvious for her comfort and she, once again, turned a vivid shade of red.

Tristan noticed this and he smiled as he bent to level his eyes with hers, taking her face in his hands, and gently kissing her forehead. She soaked in the feeling she received inside of her; a sincere, encouraging, and fiery feeling. He pulled away from her, but did not remove his hands from her soft skin as he spoke.

"I accept," he said, his tone calm and loving, "I absolutely accept."

* * *

_**A/N:** There you have it. I'm sure the humorous Tristan was highly unexpected and, perhaps, a bit out of character for him, but I couldn't help it. I wanted it to be slightly lighthearted and I really didn't want a storybook romance, as they say. It's too cliche for me. Anyway, we won't be seeing Titania until the next story, I think. Yes, Merlin is the bad guy in this story, but that's the way it is. Merlin fans, do not disdain me, you'll enjoy the sequel, I think. Now, everyone have a very nice Fourth of July and please, please, please keep the reviews coming!_


	21. XXI

_**A/N:** You have my sincerest appologies, readers and reviewers, I'm sorry I haven't updated. Yes, three days is a while for me. Alas, writer's block had been clawing at my sleeve, and I am desperately trying to evade it. As for the following chapter, I forewarn you, you may be disappointed, for I have skipped over the scenes in which Gaia tells Lancelot and Arthur that she's made her choice and found her love in Tristan. I wasn't sure of how to write it, so I avoided it, but I asure you that I will satisfy your Lancelot and Arthur fixes by adding these scenes to the Deleted Scenes area of my fansite (the link is in my profile). I haven't written them yet, but I promise I will get to them. Now, then, on with the story...I hope everyone had a wonderful Independence Day!_

* * *

Badon Hill was no longer a dreary, barren land to Gaia; she now looked upon it with keen eyes and a light heart. The skies, though normally a woebegone shade of grey, were now lucid and inspiring to her, and though she knew that it was only in her mind, she loved the feeling and never wanted to forget it. She smiled inwardly as she stood in the knights' main room, watching as all seven of the men sat at the round table, Tristan with his arm in an expertly fashioned sling, discussing the Woads and possible weak areas of the fort from which the blue-dyed men might attack. Telling Arthur and Lancelot about her decision had not been a simple task, but she had done it early that morning, not wanting to procrastinate and risk losing their respect. Both men had respected her decision, though Lancelot still provided plenty of innuendoes on more of a mocking basis, and Gaia only laughed alongside everyone else, not taking him seriously at all. She was removed from reverie upon hearing the men's discussion take a turn.

"How are we to know what goes on with Merlin," came Galahad's voice in an annoyed tone, "if we have no scout?"

Tristan gave an irritated grunt at this. He had not agreed with Galahad on anything for fourteen years, and obviously nothing was going to change.

"I could go, if it weren't for this thing," Tristan muttered as he nodded to the sling on his right arm.

"No, Tristan," Gaia interrupted, a look of concern on her face. "I won't see you kill yourself." Another unhappy grunt from Tristan. Surely he thought women were meant to be silent under all circumstances. Gaia looked around at the knights seated at the round table. Each of the seven faces was weary and ashen and they had all turned their eyes upon her. She smiled slightly. "I'll do it."

The knights all murmured their disagreement, but Gaia broke in with a small laugh.

"Come now, boys," she said jocosely, "would your prefer to linger in unknowing?"

They were silent for a long moment before they each nodded slowly. Tristan, however, was not willing to let his love go for even a moment.

"I won't allow it," he said bluntly. The knights stared at him, surprised that he would - or even _could_ - show such passion.

Gaia smiled at the man and fumbled with the neck of her gown as she grabbed the pendant of her Woad necklace. He saw this and barely hid his smile. Though still uncertain, he knew she was a skilled scout and would undoubtedly be safe and able to care for herself.

"I'll accompany you," Dagonet said as he rose from his seat and set his goblet of wine down on the table. "At least to the forests's edge." Gaia nodded and thanked the knight before she left to ready her stout mare.

* * *

Gaia lunged a saddled Latona on the line, warming her up before their trip to the woods. She would leave Latona with Dagonet at the woods' entrance, not endangering the animal and therefore not endangering herself as she knew she was a much better scout when she could climb trees and use the earth around her. The sky was lucid as the afternoon arrived, though the clouds did not appear to want to split aside, to allow any form of light onto the earth. Gaia noticed this and frowned slightly. The darkness in the woods was much worse when the sun was hidden, and she knew her visibility would be incredibly low.

Feeling that Latona had warmed up enough for her short journey, Gaia slowed the horse and walked to her head, patting the mare's foretop as she unhooked the lunging line and removed the leather halter. She took the reins from around the chestnut's neck and swung herself into the saddle. It was a strange feeling, and she much preferred the bareback way of the Woads, though she ignored it and rode to meet Dagonet at the gates.

"All set?" he asked with a smile as she neared. She nodded, her eyes sweeping over the grounds as she noticed all five of the knights and their commander standing around, watching her anxiously. Even Germanus, Jols, Vanora, and Horton the secretary were gathered nearby. Gaia's gaze went to the bishop, surprised to see him anyway near herself. He had kept a safe and respectable distance, disdaining her possibly more than Galahad had. She, however, attempted to respect the bishop, thinking him a fine Christian man, but she was truly a bit unnerved by his prejudice.

"You sure you want to do this?"

Gaia's eyes left the bishop and turned to Tristan as he walked to Latona, patting the horse gently on the neck and eyeing the ex-Woad with concern. She smiled a small smile and nodded her head, trying to show enthusiasm. She watched as his eyes traveled along her figure, clearly noticing the provocative Woad clothing she wore in an attempt to blend to her surroundings. Though promising herself to burn the clothing, she knew it was the best choice when wandering into the undoubtedly Woad-infested woods. She stifled the blush that arose and waved a hand humorously in front of his face.

"Everything well, darling?" she asked with a laugh, and his eyes immediately went to hers, a smile appearing on his usually set face.

"Far more than alright," he retorted with a wink and the blush she had expertly maneuvered around before, appeared quickly on her pale complexion. He did not hide the smile that ensued at seeing her cheeks redden so innocently.

"How's our little Briton holding up," came the deep voice of Lancelot as he approach Latona's other side. Gaia's complexion smoothed and she turned smiling eyes upon him.

"Ask me when I return," she retorted.

"Indeed, I will," he said as he cast a scandalous look at her. Her blush returned and she shifted nervously on Latona's back.

Tristan saw this and laughed silently. "Don't you have something you could be doing," he asked Lancelot with a hint of warning in his voice.

"Feeling threatened, Tristan?" Lancelot replied with a chuckle.

"No," was all he said in reply.

"Alright," Lancelot said acquiescently, hearing the tone of Tristan's voice and thinking better of arguing. "Be safe, my dear," he said, turning his attention to Gaia before turning to walk to the armory.

Gaia relinquished a sigh before turning her eyes to Tristan. "Thank you," she said with a small smile.

"Think naught of it," he replied softly.

The other knights approached Latona's other side, their faces grim.

"Do not go getting yourself hurt," Galahad warned her sternly.

"I think we all want to keep you around for a while," added Gawain with a smile.

Gaia smiled and nodded to the two knights and they made their way to the stables, silently. She turned to Bors who put a fist to his armor. She returned the gesture by placing her hand on her heart.

"Go shoot some Woad ass," he said bluntly. She laughed aloud and nodded, despite her inner hope to do no such thing.

Arthur was now alone at Gaia's side as Bors and Tristan went to speak with Dagonet.

"Well, Commander," she said with a small, forced smile, "how does it feel to have a Briton in your calvary?"

Arthur ignored her attempt at humor, and fixed her with a stern look. "Be careful," he said, his tone coated with worry. He then turned his eyes to the remaining knights and managed a small smile. "You bring joy to the faces of my men," he said lightly as he turned back to her, "a joy their faces have not held in fourteen years."

"Arthur, you exaggerate."

"If I do anything, I understate," he replied quickly. "You did not know them before, Gaia, you have lightened their world."

"And yours," she asked curiously.

He smiled a smile that reached his eyes, something he had not done in a very long time, and that was answer enough for Gaia. She only nodded and Arthur led Latona to where Dagonet sat atop his stallion, Bors and Tristan beside him.

There was a silence that loomed over the five of them, and no one knew how to break it. They only looked around in uncertainty, unable to face the fact that this might be the last time any of them saw this British girl. After what felt like an eternity, Dagonet motioned for the guards to lower the gate.

Gaia cast a last look at the three remaining knights before silently starting Latona at a walk. She ignored the single tear that fell from her eye, but when a second one fell, she brushed at it irritably, trying to rid herself of all thought.

* * *

Upon reaching the forest, Gaia dismounted and tied Latona's reins to a nearby tree. Dagonet stayed on his horse, halting him near the chestnut mare and staring down at Gaia intently.

The girl sighed deeply as she stared at the looming trees that awaited her. It was as if it was another world entirely; one she had no intention of returning to.

"You can turn back," came Dagonet's quiet voice behind her and she only turned to smile at him before shaking her head negatively. Dagonet nodded and reached into a large satchel that had been tied to his horse's saddle, pulling a small crossbow from it and handing it to Gaia.

"A gift," he said with a smile, "from Rome."

Gaia silently nodded her thanks, her mind reeling as she prayed that she would not have to use the weapon. Thoughts then entered her mind of the people inside this forest; her kin. She pushed thoughts of her family aside as she climbed a tall, seemingly never-ending tree. Her speed and agility were gifts she often recognized, especially at this moment. She climbed noiselessly from tree to tree, making her way north and further into the forest.

* * *

_**A/N:** Et viola. I forget to mention in my former note that we've reached the 100 review marker! I'm very thankful to my loyal r/r-ers, and I hope my future chapters satisfy your wonderful minds! Much love!_


	22. XXII

_**A/N:** By the time I finished reading the reviews for the last chapter, I had a very large smile on my face, you can not imagine. All of you, your words are so kind and inspiring and I can't say how much I appreciate it! I've got such courage, now, and I've managed to finish writing the final chapters! I've started work on the sequel, which I'm currently calling Midsummer Maiden, but I'm very open to suggestions. Anyway, we must see what ensues in the forest for Gaia, now, so on with the tale!_

* * *

Gaia had gone far from Dagonet; it seemed she had spent hours sifting through the branches and placing herself into more danger with every branch she passed. She was still deeply hidden in the trees, low enough to hear anything below her, but high enough to see a great deal of the forest. It was deathly quiet, too quiet. She made her way further north, hearing nothing and seeing no one, until she was about thirty yards away to the south of Hadrian's Wall. Suddenly, she heard a loud roar of fury in the distance, and she slowly followed the sound. It did not take her long to find Merlin standing in a small clearing, a young paladin man kneeling at his feet. Gaia instantly recognized him as the lover of her blood sister, Titania, and she felt a sudden rush of panic hit her, wondering if Merlin had found out that Titania was also secretly a Christian. Thankfully, Titania was not mentioned.

"These Sarmatian knights have killed my favorite son, Aeron," Her father's voice rang with rage. "I will see my retribution is complete."

"Yes, Master," Aeron returned softly.

"Sarmatian bastards," Merlin spat as he turned to look upon the woods around him with fury. Gaia snuck quietly further into the shelter of the trees, remembering with fear the livid intimidation of his eyes. She grasped the crossbow tightly, feeling the urge to fire it directly at her father's heart, but too frightened to take action.

"We will attack upon your word, Master," Aeron said in nearly a whisper which Gaia strained to hear at the height of the trees.

"Ready your men, Aeron, and inform Phoebus that his men will be needed. Huendt will be avenged this night."

* * *

Dagonet sat upon his grey stallion in silence, listening intently for any sound that might emerge from the dark, intimidating woods. He sat for what seemed like hours before hearing a soft something in the trees near him. He instinctively held up his crossbow.

"Show yourself," he demanded.

Gaia emerged from the trees with a small smile, and quickly made her way down the branches to the soft grass. She hopped down and ran swiftly to her horse as she spoke hurriedly to Dagonet.

"They attack this very night," she said hastily. "That was all I discerned."

"Merlin is weakened," Dagonet said sternly as they rode to the east gates. "Tristan told me you killed many men the morn he was injured."

The young Briton shook her head negatively in reply. "He gathers at least two legions. He sends all he can to us."

Dagonet stared at her in surprise for a moment, considering that the men had never fought over a hundred Woads at once. He remained silent, however, knowing that all would reveal itself in due course.

* * *

Upon reaching the eastern gates, Gaia quickly dismounted, handing Latona off to Jols with a quick nod of appreciation before searching for Arthur.

She found him in the main quarters, sitting at the round table alone with a goblet of wine. He seemed very distressed, but Gaia overlooked it, quickly bombarding him with her news.

"Merlin attacks this night," she said hastily. As she spoke, the other six knights, rounded up by Dagonet, entered the room in silence. Tristan cast her a quick concerned glance and she informed him that she was inscathed.

"How many," asked Arthur as he turned weary eyes upon her.

"One thousand." The knights all gaped at her for a moment in shocked silence.

"We've never taken on that many before," Galahad said pointedly. "Why would they attack in so great a number? Surely that is the whole of Merlin's army."

Gaia nodded as she turned to the young knight, a look of nervousness coating her face. "Merlin greaves over the death of his favorite son, Huendt." Tristan nodded in understanding, remembering that the Woad's death had been done by his bow. "Merlin does not think clearly, his mind in blurred with thoughts of revenge and malevolence."

"That could be an advantage," Gawain muttered thoughtfully.

"Not if we're facing a thousand of these bastards," Bors grunted unhappily.

"Are you not desiring a challenge, Bors," Lancelot asked with a smirk.

"Merlin sends most of his army; his best men," Gaia said seriously to Arthur. "Should we emerge with a victory, he will retreat north of the wall for a long while, I promise that."

"Should I send word for the women and children to barricade themselves in the citadel," Tristan asked as he rose from the table, his right arm still tied and bandaged. Arthur nodded and Tristan quickly left the room. Arthur turned to his other knights.

"See to it that all men and strong lads bear arms. Send half the boys with the women for protection, should the worst happen." The knights nodded to their commander and left the room quickly, leaving Gaia and Arthur alone.

Gaia moved to sit down, having stood in anticipation and slight fear as she reiterated what she heard to her commander and friend. She noticed the solemn expression on his face, and her fear grew.

"You think this battle will cost us many lives," she asked concernedly, trying to discern the reason for his poor mood. He shook his head and she raised an eyebrow.

"No, we have battled these men for fourteen years," he said quietly, "we will not be defeated by a few more."

"Then," Gaia began uncertainly, "what is ill?"

Arthur's eyes rose to meet hers and she noticed the hint of hurt that glazed over them. "I miss you," he said truthfully.

Gaia blushed slightly, but ignored the burn of her cheeks as she focused a more concerned gaze upon the man. "I am here, Arthur," she said softly, hoping she was misunderstanding the man.

"No," he sighed as he lowered his gaze to the table. "I miss being able to think that at any moment, you could turn to me and proclaim your love; you could ask me to be yours. I thought it would be an easy thing, forgetting an unrequited love, but it is not."

Gaia laid a hand over his and he slowly allowed his gaze to meet her eyes. She smiled a soft, consoling smile, but inside she was stunned. She opened and closed her mouth several times, uncertain of what to say, until Arthur spoke again.

"I will be well," he said finally, smiling a bittersweet smile and removing his hand from under the warmth of her own. "I only need time, and I promise you I will return to my true self."

"Arthur," she said slowly, "because I chose to love Sir Tristan does not mean that I hold no room for you in my heart. You took me in when death was beginning to consume me, nursed me when all said it was in vain. No, your love is not unrequited. It is entirely returned."

"Not in the way I would have it," he said in nearly a whisper. "You do not look upon me in the way you look upon Tristan."

"That was my choice," she returned, her eyes narrowing in confusion.

"It was," Arthur reiterated, "and do you not expect me to grieve that it was not _I_ that was your choice?" She was silent and uncertain and Arthur spoke once more. "It shall pass, I promise you."

"Your eyes hold emptiness, your face is ashen," Gaia said bluntly with a frown. "Tell me that it is not my presence that has done this to you. Tell me that my choice has not led you to despair. For, if it is, I promise you that God has your someone picked out, and you have only to follow your feet to greet your beautiful fate. But, it is not I."

Arthur smiled a smile that reached his eyes for the first time in a long while. "This ashen face, these unhappy eyes; they are the result of fourteen years of killing, Gaia. War is not a place for the light of heart."

"Aye," Gaia returned, glad to turn to a somewhat different subject, "war is not a place for anyone. I would not wish it upon anyone."

* * *

_**A/N:** So, Arthur shares his feelings with Gaia. I thought it was necessary to add this scene, because I think Arthur would not have dismissed his feelings for her as easily as, say, our dear Lancelot. Don't worry, Arthur's broken heart will someday mend, and Lancelot will always be his flirtatious self. I'm thinking of adding a bit of LancelotOC to the sequel. Perhaps?_


	23. XXIII

_**A/N:** 115 reviews! How exciting is this? You guys are awesome, thanks so much!_

* * *

Gaia sat in her room, a large jar of rosemary leaves sending a peaceful smell, setting a tranquil mood as a candle burned on a nearby table. She sat on the floor, her legs crossed, and her paladin clothing set aside. She was dressed, now, in tunic and trousers, looking much like a man aside from her feminine figure. She held a large knife in her hand and held her hair with determination. Slowly, shemanaged to cut it until it reached an inchabove her shoulders, finally making her shards of chocolate locks one even length. It had been pulled and cut in her torture, but as the hair fell to the ground, the memories were evanescent. She could hear the shouts of Roman guards outside her open window as they prepared for the battle. Horses were being tacked and clad in their equine armor while their Sarmation riders applied their own. Gaia had decided against wearing armor, feeling the heavy fabric of the tunic would be enough of a contrast to her normal war clothing, and she only tied her quiver around her shoulder, attached a large sheath which held a Roman blade to her waist, and hooked a small, somewhat hidden sheath to her ankle.

Replacing the knife in the sheath, she rose and, retrieving her bow and sword, walked from the room with one last glance at the beautiful stone walls.

"No backward glances," shesighed to herself with a small smile as she closed the heavy stone door.

She reached the barn and walked to Latona's stall, but was surprised to see it empty. Fear consuming her, she turned around to look through the aisle with curiousness. Upon reaching the last aisle and peering down it, a smile formed on her lips as she saw Lancelot standing, his nearly black stallion's reins in one hand and Latona's reins in the other.

"What on earth," she questioned as she approached and received the reins, patting the chestnut mare on the neck.

"Your compassion for equines does naught to boost our chances," Lancelot said softly. "I did not give you the chance to leave the mare behind. She wants to be with you, and you will need her in battle."

Gaia was silent for a moment before nodding to the knight and planting an innocent kiss upon his cheek. He, however, up to his old tricks, grabbed her waist and kissed her fervently in return. She reached a hand to slap his face, but he caught it and released her.

"Fiery Briton," he murmured with a sneer.

"You are endearing, Lancelot," she retorted with sarcasm.

"Being facetious, darling," he asked jocosely.

"Very astute, Sir," she replied, a bit coldly, as she led her mare from the stable. As much as she tried to brush off the behavior of Lancelot, it still unnerved her that he would be so indecent, especially after she had devoted herself, now, to Tristan. Deep inside, however, she had not expected anything different from him.

None of the knights mounted their steeds, instead they walked them to the east gates, leaving them there and making their way to the parapets above the gate. Here, they would fire their arrows down upon the blue creatures and, when the time came and arrows would serve useless, they would return to their horses and ride out.

As Gaia stood between Lancelot and Tristan at the battlements, she could see the Woad army gathering, their blue skin gleaming slightly in the setting sun. Bors banged a fist to his cuirass before raising it in the air and screeching his Sarmatian battle cry. Gaia repeated this and, with her, rose the voices of the other knights as they all bellowed the call of war.

"You are transforming into a Sarmatian in front of our eyes," remarked Lancelot, his eyes not moving from the Woads in the distance.

"Mm," Bors agreed from beside Lancelot, "I think she's the first beautiful one, eh?" The other knights laughed and nodded in agreement while Gaia's face turned crimson.

Turning her attention back to the forthcoming battle, Gaia noticed the Woad army was emerging from the woods.

"They disillusion us," she said hastily, "There is, undoubtedly, a great many archers in the trees. They have not the skill, however, to reach us here," she added as she glanced at the seven men around her, spaced out only slightly on the parapets of the East gates. "Only in the heat of the battle will we be targets for them."

"Agreed," muttered Arthur as his eyes scanned the battlefield below. "Gaia and Bors," he commanded, "you will stay and fire from here. Space yourselves," he added, then, turning to the remainder of his knights, "Lancelot, Dagonet, Galahad, and Gawain, come; we will ride out and meet them."

Tristan cleared his throat, glancing to his bandaged arm with disdain. Arthur held back the chuckle that arose, and nodded to his knight. "I have not forgotten you, my friend," he said softly, "You will stay here, allow your scouts eyes to roam over the battle. And keep Bors in check," he added with surprising humor.

Gaia stared, uncertainly, at Arthur as he walked down the stone steps with haste, Bors cursing unhappily next to her, clearly unhappy about having to stay behind for the time. In a matter of minutes, Gaia could see five armored horses and riders emerge from the gates below. Tristan had moved far to her right and Bors had moved to her left, and she followed suit as Bors pulled an arrow from his quiver and aimed it at the trees in the distance.

"I'll be damned if I'm staying up here all night," Bors muttered bitterly before releasing his arrow. It sailed through the air for what seemed like miles before it landed in the chest of a Woad who was charging from the woods. He snorted as he placed another arrow into his bow and fired again.

"I'd have thought you would've acquired a taste for it by now," Tristan chuckled as he motioned to a tree with his good arm. Gaia loaded an arrow and fired it in the general direction of Tristan's motion, and lo and behold, a single Woad fell to the ground.

"Not on your life," was Bors's reply as he released another arrow.

Gaia poised her arrow and was prepared to fire, but she ceased for a moment and froze in thought.

"Everything alright," asked Tristan as he noticed the young girl's cessation.

"I only wonder," she said at length, the arrow still poised, the bow string taught, "what would ensue-" her voice trailed off as she stared wonderingly at the trees in the distance.

"Damn, girl, out with out," Bors yelled in annoyance as he fired another arrow.

"Jols," she screamed suddenly, turning to look for him in the throng of people still venturing through the town. The esquire was below the gates, readying more arrows for the archers and he stopped to look at her in curiosity. "Lighted arrows," she said hastily.

"What the hell?" questioned Bors, his eyes not moving from the battle that was now beginning to turn heated as the other knights rode out from the gates. Jols, too, stared at Gaia in confusion.

"Alight the arrows," she screamed again.

"That will do more harm than good," Tristan called. "We will burn the forest!"

"Exactly," she replied. "If we're going to kill them, let's kill them all."

Jols, uncertain about taking orders such as these, nodded in resolve before moving off to heed her wish.

* * *

Arthur sat on his horse in silence, his face set as he stared at the sea of Woads emerging from the woods. This was to be the bloodiest battle to take place on Badon Hill, he knew, and perhaps it was because of the fourteen years worth of battles he had fought since, he did not feel an inch of nervousness inside of him.

"Let's unleash some hell," Gawain growled malevolently as he watched the blue men from next to Arthur. Arthur laughed lightly at the knight's fervor and nodded.

As the cluster of words formed larger and large, the five knights readied their steeds, and finally they goaded them into strong gallops, quickly leaving the east gates behind them. The horses seemed to eat up the ground that divided them from the Woads, and they were soon only yards away.

At this point, Lancelot dropped his reins in his traditional manor, reaching two hands behind his back to unsheathe his twin blades. Dagonet whipped out his Sarmation blade, leaving his axe in its holder; Galahad readied his blade, as did Arthur; but Gawain left the sword and took the axe. The five knights rode into the throng of Woads with a Sarmatian cry, swinging their weapons with fervor, and dismembering bodies as they went. It was not long before Dagonet had thrown himself from his horse and onto a large number of Woads, all of which he killed in little time.

* * *

Tristan watched unhappily as the knights rode into the mass of Woads. It looked like suicide, and he did not, by any means, relish in the fact that he was safe behind the stone parapets. He would much rather have shared the fate, whatever it may be, of his brothers, than stand on the battlements of the wall, watching out for Gaia and Bors as if he was an esquire doing a service. He was a knight, and he planned to die like a knight, if this be his time. Glancing to Gaia, he silently apologized before slowly sneaking away from the woman who was now firing flaming arrows into the distance. These arrows were not returned often, as the Woads in the forest were only there to fire upon the battle, and had not the skill to reach the fortress with their arrows.

She did not notice Tristan leave, but as she fired, she saw a horse below her riding hard to the battle, and she instantly jerked her head to where Tristan had been. Her breathe caught in her chest when she saw that he was gone.

* * *

_**A/N:** Another cliff-hanger! It seems like I wrote the next few chapters so quickly, so I'm really thinking something is wrong with them. Just my writer's insecurity, I suppose. Anyway, hope you enjoyed. And thanks so much, again, for the reviews!_


	24. XXIV

_**A/n:** So sorry for the lack of updating. I've got a nice, juicy chapter here, now, though that's just waiting to be read! Enjoy!_

* * *

Arthur, still atop his horse, thrust his sword into the stomach of a Woad before turning and removing the head of another. Though they had never fought so many Woads as this, Arthur had little doubt that, if they fought fervidly, they could manage to snatch a victory. However, there were only a few tens of corpses on the ground, and still hundreds upon hundreds of Woads still living and bloodthirsty.

He noticed Lancelot nearby, who had dismounted and was working his twin blades violently throw the bodies as if they were statues. Woads fell everywhere around him and Arthur wondered if he had ever seen the knight fight like this.

Gawain had dismounted, as well, and he was wielding his axe with expert precision, bringing it down at the exact moment so that it killed its victim on impact. He growled as he dropped his axe and unsheathed a knife, motioning for a Woad in the distance to join him. The Woad approached with a scream, swinging his axe at Gawain, who maneuvered around it and stabbed the blue creature in the neck.

"That didn't hurt, now, did it," he asked the lifeless form on the ground before moving on to his next victim.

* * *

It did not take Bors a very long time to notice Tristan, and he let out a roar of lividity, clearly unhappy at the dark scout leaving him on the battlements, not to mention the fact that Tristan could barely fight with an injured arm. He made his way down to his horse, and Gaia soon saw him riding out to the battle as well. She felt a sudden rush of adrenaline as she realized she was the only archer protecting the fortress, and called to Jols for support.

The esquire quickly assembled a large group of townspeople to aide Gaia in her struggle of firing flaming arrows at the trees, Woads, and basically anything that was not clad in Roman or Sarmation armor.

Woads were quickly falling, but for every Woad that fell, another emerged from the wood. Gaia wondered if Merlin had sent nearly every man able to bare arms. The seven knights were overwhelmed, but there was little she could do. More and more townspeople were offering their services and aiming flaming arrows at the trees alongside each other. Gaia soon found it impossible to watch the men below her, and she left her position to find Jols in the throng.

"I'm going out," she yelled to him over the roar of bows and arrows. "Tristan is out there, fighting with naught but one arm, and the rest of the men are overwhelmed." Her voice lowered a level when she met with the esquire.

"I'm going with you," Jols replied.

Gaia opened her mouth to argue, but he had already made his way to Latona and swung himself on her back. Gaia mounted the horse, sitting behind Jols, and he quickly asked the mare for a canter. She responded and they were soon riding through the gates, nearing what was certain to be the grittiest battle either of them had ever seen.

The Woads had somehow managed to push Arthur's men back and were closer to the fort than expect, growing even closer as the battle wore on, and the Roman guards soon closed the large Eastern gate, taking shelter in it's walls while the townspeople still risked their lives to aide the knights from the battlements.

As Jols steered Latona through the mass of blue-dyed men, Gaia spotted Tristan in the distance. She breathed a sigh to see him alive, but she yelled to Jols to turn and make their way towards him. She noticed that the scout was fighting like the machine he seemed to be, even without the use of his right arm. The strength he must have, she mused, to carry on in such a way. She still fumed inside, unnerved that he would risk his life in such a way, but she felt a warmth rush in her, as well.

It was when she saw Lancelot a short way from Tristan that her breath caught, and she nearly choked. He was bloodied and bruised and had one hand grasping his left side, while his right held his sword and he continued to fight. He was soon bombarded by a number of Woads who threw themselves savagely onto him.

She looked to Tristan, horror in her eyes, not knowing where to turn. Jols was still steering towards the scout, but it was clear that Lancelot was in much more peril, and Tristan seemed to be taking care of himself.

"Stay with Tristan," she called to Jols over the rush of battle, "I need to help Lancelot!"

She did not wait for the esquire's reply, but threw herself from Latona's back and onto the pile of blue men. She pulled a knife from the sheath at her thigh and stabbed at the men brutally, mercilessly. This was unlike her, unlike her to want to kill, to have the desire to maim, but her heart broke at the sight of Lancelot being bombarded by these savage men and she would see his survival, no matter what she had to do to see it.

She continued to fight her way through the men until she found Lancelot, and she quickly pulled him to his feet while sheathing her knife and unsheathing the larger Roman sword from her waist. They fought, back to back, Lancelot still holding his wounded side.

"I thought we were doing good, for a while," Lancelot called. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me until we are both home and well," she replied. "But, you are welcome."

At that moment, Lancelot let out a scream of agony, and fell to his knees. Gaia ended her current fight by plunging her sword into the Woad's stomach before turning to the fallen knight. It seemed that he had been punch directly in his wound. Blood formed at his lips as he gasped and held his side in pain. Gaia looked around pleadingly, searching for help somewhere, but only found a rush of men preparing to attack her.

In an attempt to protect Lancelot, she took up one of his blades along with her own and swung them madly around, felling Woads with every swing. She did not think of the pain she was causing these unfortunate souls, but of the knight who was slowly dying on the ground of Badon Hill.

* * *

Galahad had fallen, an arrow piercing his leg, and another in his arm. Arthur found him still alive and quickly forgot the battle in order to bring Galahad to safety. He checked for a pulse, which he found, but the boy was unconscious. Throwing Galahad's motionless form over his shoulders, he used one hand to steady him and the other to swing his sword whenever and wherever possible. He had resolved that he would save Galahad from his fate, or share it.

* * *

The sky was dawning a bloody red as Gaia heaved Lancelot up onto her shoulder. His weight was too much for her slim form to carry, however, and she had no choice but to drop him. She knelt beside him and saw he was still breathing, still conscious. His mouth was ajar, relinquishing silent screams of agony, and blood slipped from the corners of his mouth. His face was ghostly ashen, as he lost blood with every moment.

Unlucky for Gaia, after discarding her paladin Woad clothing, she was highly recognizable as an enemy, and could not hide herself long enough to tend to Lancelot in any way. As a new mass of Woads approached her, she wondered how much longer she could hold out, how much longer Lancelot would live.

Salvation was hers, as an arrow pierced the Woad attempting to befall her, and she turned to see Jols in the distance. She glanced around for Tristan, and he was soon beside her.

"Take Lancelot," he called, as he swung his sword mercilessly with his left hand.

"Damn, man," she yelled back to him, "are you trying to force me into the life of a widow already?"

Tristan did not answer her, and she quickly turned her attention from the stubborn scout to the very much wounded knight. She goaded the still conscious Lancelot to stand.

Lancelot understood her, and stood with some ease. He tried to walk, but he was slow and staggering. Gaia prayed silently for Lancelot's safety and for some form of aide, and it was soon received.

Bors's stallion was only in the distance, where his master had dismounted, and he stood, rearing on his hind legs and bucking on his fores, as any creature approached him. Whether or not she could tame the beast, she did not know, but she had to try.

Slowly, she and Lancelot staggered to the stallion, as bodies of blue men flew by them. The horse had clearly gone crazy from the battle and was not daring to run from the battle as the others had done. Perhaps the stud held the same passion that his owner held. As she neared, she called to the stallion in a soft, urgent tone. He did not reply. She continued to talk soothingly to him, yelling over the numerous cried of battle. Nothing.

With a sudden flush of knowing, she roared Bors's Sarmatian war cry. The horse understood it as a sign of victory and slowly ceased his ravaging.

She called the cry again, and staggering closer with Lancelot. Soon, the horse was on all fours, staring intently at her. She neared and he tossed his armored head, allowing his long mane to float through the air. She laid a hand on the stallion's shoulder as she heaved Lancelot over the horses withers.

She mounted the horse, grasping Lancelot tightly, and urged him to gallop. He acquiesced and they were off towards the fort. With one hand clasping Lancelot's chest in front of her, Gaia held a sword in her free hand and thrashed blindly with it. Again, she said a silent prayer for the lives she was destroying, and the life that was resting in her arms, nearing its end.

* * *

Arthur had not found a horse in his wanderings with Galahad atop his shoulder, and he knew the young knight was nearing the end of his life. A Woad took the liberty of slamming the blade of his sword into Arthur, and he now had a large gash in his right side. The pain nearly blinded him and he felt that his death would come soon, as well as Galahad's. He fell to his knees with a sickening thud, and felt the weight on his shoulders lessen as Galahad's body fell from him. He stood back up, his knees shaking violently, and heaved Galahad onto his shoulder once more. He staggered forward a few steps before he was met with a blow to his left side. Having lost his sword with the last blow, he had nothing to do but take the pain.

This was impossible, however, and he soon fell to his knees again. His visibility was limited, but he saw the man in front of him as he prepared to bring his British blade down on the Roman commander.

Arthur could only watch the blade and await his dark fate...

* * *

Tristan fought hard, and he knew that it was a mistake for him to have come out into the battle with only the use of one arm. He was not overpowered by any means, as it certainly took a lot too overpower him at all, but his mind raced as he thought of Gaia and the dying Lancelot, wondering if his brother-in-arms would be alive the next time he beheld him, and then wondering if the woman he loved would be alive, as well.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he continued on, swinging his blade violently and taking down Woads with every strike. The battle was beginning to look up to Tristan, but then, he had only knowledge of Lancelot being wounded and knew nothing of the horrific fate that lingered in front of Galahad and Arthur, somewhere in the distance.

* * *

_**A/N:** Wow, this was a choppy chapter! I feel like I kind of left Dagonet out of this one a bit, but I tried my best to include all the knights. And, yes, the cliffhangers! My goodness! Let's see, we've got three men near to death, a scoutwho seems to be on a deathwish, and an esquire mired in there somewhere, as well! Phew! I hope this was enjoyable. It was really all me writing here, I sometimes recall the scenes in the film or book, but here I just wrote from my own mind. Twas quite fun, actually..Thanks for the reviews, and thanks for reading even if you haven't reviewed!_


	25. XXV

_**A/N:** Been a bit of a while since I updated, my apologies on that. I've had my nose burried in Harry Potter. Ah, but I'm here now with the twenty-fifthchapter in the tale! Yes, I am sorry that Dagonet got left out of the last chapter, that was rude of me. I think he'll have a bit of a part in this chapter... Now, when I left off there were so many near death! Could I really kill any of them off? Let's find out.._

* * *

As the sword came down on Arthur, he closed his eyes in one final prayer, but the cold thrust of death never came as he heard the clang of metal on metal. This sound was soon followed by the Sarmatian war cry of Sir Bors.

Arthur glanced up to see Dagonet and Bors fighting around himself and the fallen Galahad. A smile crept to Arthur's beaten face as he watched the passion of the two men and their weapons. Bors roared, not fearing to draw attention to himself, relinquishing his yells as a sort of invitation of death to the men of the woods.

Still in pain from the wound he had received, Arthur could do little but protect the still unconscious Galahad from any blows. The noises of the battle seemed to fade in Arthur's ears and he wondered if the battle was leaning towards their favor, of if he, too, was drifting towards unconsciousness.

* * *

As Jols swung his blade, his mind wheeled, having never truly fought a battle such as this. He had seen many a fight, and fought from the walls of the citadel, but never had he been knee-deep in blue corpses, with naught but tens of men wanting little more than to slaughter him. This was an adventure he will greatly have liked to evade, but, alas, he was here and there was no turning back.

He put all thought from his mind, focusing only on battle tactics he had picked up from Bors in their sparring tournaments, though he knew that Bors had often let him off easily. In any case, he remembered every little bit of knowledge he had discerned from listening to the knights talking of their great battles, and put every word to good use. He had soon fallen as many Woads as he could reach, and found himself standing in a clearing, the battle finally looking up for the Roman side.

* * *

Gaia's eyes were blurred with tears of hope and fear as the brave horse of Bors's made his way to the east gates of the fortress at Hadrian's Wall. The sun was risen behind her and lit the fortress with a heavenly glow as the gates opened and the stallion cantered inside.

Stopping the horse as quickly as he could without sliding, Gaia threw herself rather unceremoniously from the steed and bellowed for a young esquire to fetch the doctor. She then tried hastily to move Lancelot from the horse, and he nearly fell on top of her as she tried to support his weight.

Suddenly, Lancelot was lifted from her, and Gaia looked around in search of her mysterious aide only to find Gawain hoisting Lancelot onto his shoulders.

"Gawain," she questioned, glancing out the gates to the battle. "Shouldn't-"

"Don't fret," Gawain interrupted quickly, "the battle is well in our favor, the other shall be fine." He then left her as he made his way to Lancelot's quarters, Mancomn meeting him halfway and following.

Gaia stood stock still, uncertain if she should return to the battle, or comfort the ill Lancelot. She noticed the mass of townspeople who had taken her place at the battlements, and smiled as they continued to release arrows on the Woads with little pity.

* * *

Bors drew his sword up and let it fall one final time, beheading the last of the living Woads that was not fleeing to the woods. He ignored the blood that bursted onto his already crimson armor, and turned to Arthur, who was kneeling beside Galahad.

"He alright," Bors asked Dagonet, who was walked to Galahad and threw him over his shoulders.

"He's alive, but I don't know for how long," Dagonet mumbled as he started towards his horse in the distance.

Bors walked to Arthur and took his arm. "Artorius," he said sternly, "you alright?"

"Yes," was all Arthur could manage as Bors supported the commander's weight on his shoulder and started off towards the gate, his horse currently missing.

"Bors," cried a voice and the knight turned to see Jols riding Latona up to him. He dismounted quickly and offered the horse for Arthur. Bors quickly deposited his commander on the mare and led her from the ground.

"Where's Tristan," Jols questioned Bors as he looked around.

Bors pointed towards the fort. "I saw him go back a short time ago. Going to ensure the safety of his lady, no doubt."

Arthur felt another pain rush through him, though he knew it was not from his wound.

* * *

Gaia watched as the remnants of the Woads made their way to the woods. She silently said a prayer in hopes that Aeron was with the survivors, making his way safely back to her sister's waiting arms. Tristan entered the fort several moments later and, in a sweeping movement, dismounted his stallion and took Gaia in his arms.

She was very much taken aback by his movement, not accustomed to seeing the introvertive scout show such passion, but she returned the embrace willingly. They stayed for a moment before Tristan pulled away far enough to plant a kiss on her forehead and look into her eyes.

"I feared for you," he whispered.

"Oh, and I suppose I was just having an ale while you risked your life," she responded sarcastically. "You could have killed yourself _and_ made me suffer a heart attack in the same moment!"

He chuckled at her and turned his attention to the gates as Bors and Jols entered with Arthur on Latona. Dagonet followed on his horse with Galahad's form in front of him.

"Galahad," Gaia breathed as she saw the man, bloodied and bruised, and too near to death to believe. She and Jols aided Dagonet in dismounting and removing Galahad from the horse, and Bors quickly helped Arthur to the ground.

"Where's the doctor," Jols asked wearily.

"He's tending to Lancelot," Gaia replied as she watched the esquire and Dagonet carry the young knight's form into the fortress. Tristan quickly followed, making his way to Lancelot and Mancomn.

Gaia turned her attention, then, to Arthur, who was leaning on Bors's shoulder and grasping his side.

"Dear Lord," she gasped as she got a glimpse of the blood between his cuirass. "Alright," she said in the tone of Vanora scolding her children, "to your room with you. I'll see to that one on my own, Doctor Mancomn has enough to tend to."

Bors nodded with a slight chuckle and helped Arthur into the fortress, leaving an exasperated Gaia to watch as the esquires took the horses to the barns. She quickly gathered her wits and followed the knights into the fort as the east gates closed around her, the battle for Hadrian's Wall finally over.

* * *

_**A/N:** Yes, I was a bit of a sap and I kept everyone alive. Death is inevitable in these times, I know, but they made it to fifteen years in the movie, so why not now? Hopefully it wasn't too fluffy considering the lack of death, but I don't want this to be a very dark tale. Anyway, the war is over! Was I too quick with that- should it have been drawn out a bit more? I apologize if I wasn't descriptive enough, I didn't bother to proof it because then I only find myself rewriting half the chapter, and I think the best chapters are the unedited, as I've said before. Now, it's not over, I won't end quite like this. I implore you, if you have the time, to please review - you have no idea how good it makes me feel - just a word, really. To know this is being read and enjoyed is a wonderful feeling, and it makes me want to write a whole novel. Also, I'd like to take a moment to thank those who have reviewed. I can't say it enough: thank you sooo much! You brighten my day immensely! So, thanks yet again, and much love to you all!_


	26. XXVI

_**A/N:** This seems like an awefully long chapter, but I couldn't very well stop in the middle, it just wouldn't have worked I don't think. Anyhow, here you have it, my dears! Enjoy!_

* * *

Gaia entered the room of Arthur quietly, her arms full of scraps of clothing and ointments. She found the Roman on his bed, his armor removed, but his bloodied tunic still on him. Bors walked out in silence as Gaia prepared a pitcher of water alongside Arthur's bed.

"Gaia," Arthur whispered as she worked, but she held up a silencing hand.

"Please," she said pointedly, "you have little strength. You're lucky my people do not aim, only lunge for bodies in the throng," she added in a lighter tone as she noticed the wound was low on his abdomen. "We'll need this off," she said innocently as she gestured to his tunic.

Arthur acquiesced and raised his hands above his head while Gaia grasped the end of his tunic and pulled it upwards, forcing it over his head. The wound was bleeding profusely and she cleaned it swiftly before using the cloths she had brought to apply pressure.

"Thank you," Arthur said finally, having gotten his breathing in order, and strength back in him.

Gaia smiled up at the man. It was a simple smile, a friendly smile, but nothing more, and Arthur felt a fresh load of that same unwelcome pain shoot through him, starting near his heart.

"Gaia," he began to whisper to her, as his hand traveled up to her face, but she took it in her own and held it tightly, certain she knew what Arthur's motives were. However, she pretended she had not the faintest idea.

"The Woads were few when they fled," she said cooly as she glanced out the open window, "they will not trouble us south of the wall again."

"How can you be sure," Arthur asked in a solemn tone, unhappy he had been steered from his conversation.

"I know my father," Gaia replied.

"Gaia," Arthur began again, at length. He could not live without this woman's affections, and he was determined to have them someday. His heart seemed to beat at an irregular pace whenever he saw her eyes, dark and innocent, and his mind whirled when she looked into his face, but there was always that shadow of happiness in her features; that happiness that told the world she was loved by someone, and she loved him in return. How he wanted to be the man these features lilt for! It was indescribable, the pain he felt in his heart whenever he saw Gaia with Tristan, but mustn't he also want this woman's happiness? If she is truly happiest with Tristan, should he not let her be? But, at the same time, would this mean he would never find love again?

Too many emotions clouded Arthur's mind, and he let out a sigh of frustration before blurting, "I do not think I can bare this heartache any longer, Gaia. Should I survive from this wound, it will only cause me more pain to see you with him."

Gaia only stared at other, her small mouth opened in the tiniest of "O"s, a look of utter shock on her face. To Arthur's surprise, her pale cheeks did not flame, but turned slightly ashen. She released his hand immediately and rose from beside his bead, looking out the window unblinkingly.

"Please," Arthur said after a long moment, "say something."

She turned back to him, her eyes expressionless, her mouth still set slightly open. "What would you have me say?" she asked rhetorically, "that I will leave Tristan to be with you, in an attempt to make you happy?" Her voice grew colder as she continued, and her eyes narrowed slightly. "Or would you have me disillusion Tristan and be your secret lover-"

"Gaia," Arthur said, his voice equally cold, "I would not hurt my knight in such a way."

"You speak of your own pain, Arthur," Gaia continued, unaffected by his words, "do you not realize that with every discussion such as this, you not only cause yourself pain, but I?"

Arthur blinked. "I don't mean to," he began, but she cut him off once more, fuming slightly.

"Oh, but you do, Arthur," she blazed, "you _do_ cause me pain, whether you mean to or not. I hurt because you hurt. Because I love you differently from Tristan, must you then assume I do not love you at all?"

"I thought I could manage," he broke in, his voice rising over her own, "I told myself I could survive, I made myself believe that your words were true and there was another love out there for me," he stopped for a moment to sigh and close his eyes. "I could have died today, Gaia-"

"Don't let's talk like that," she cut in, her tone warming considerably, as she walked swiftly back to Arthur and sat by his side once more, taking his hands.

"I _must_ talk like this, Gaia," he pushed, staring straight into her eyes. "It is what keeps me grounded, to realize that at any moment on that battlefield, I could be killed."

"Arthur," she pleaded, as tears formed in her eyes.

"I look back at my life and I see that I have nothing. I have nothing but love for-"

"Arthur, I beg you, if you have any compassion for my heart, listen to me," she pleaded over his voice. "You are a man with so much love to give! Do not fritter it on me; give it to your God and country, your knights and squires - Lord, Arthur, give it to the horse you ride or the land you stand on! But, do not give it to me. Do not think you _must_ give it to me. There is so much in this world that is so deserving, and so needing, of your love, Arthur! I beg you, share this love. It will undoubtedly bring this world through these dark ages, so that our children's children will see the sun rise, and the day bloodless. You can change the world, Arthur, of that I am certain. I have seen it in you. You have only to wield this passion; use it. But, do not fritter your time on someone such as I. You were meant to do great things, and that God has seen you through another battle _must_ be reason enough to look for your fate!"

It was now Arthur's turn to stare, wide-eyed. He looked at her tear-soaked face as her hands held his, trembling beyond the point of control. Her eyes, which were blocked slightly by the pieces of hair that scattered wildly across her face, stared into his face with a hard, expressionless meaning. Her hands, which were bloodied and bruised, trembled as she held his.

He soaked in her words, her soft tone, her gentle earnest. He seemed to be burning inside, uncertain of what emotion to feel next, his brain no longer conducting his body, but his heart. His heart had leapt at her words of encouragement to him, but had broken a thousand times more when he heard the rest. Her words were a poisonous wine, it seemed, sweet to the taste, but painful when he recalled them. Arthur opened his mouth to speak to the girl again, but was interrupted as Gawain came in, a look of content on his face.

"Lancelot and Galahad," Gaia questioned instantly, wiping her tears, which Gawain seemed to have failed to notice. Or, perhaps, he pretended not to notice them.

"Lancelot will be alright in due course," Gawain said, waving a dismissive hand, "but Galahad," he let out a weary sigh, "he will need much time. Mancomn thinks it'll be a month before he can leave his bed, and another month, still, until he can wield his sword. That boy'll be mouthing off worse than ever when he gets over it." He slumped into a nearby chair and leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Men and battle stories," Gaia snorted in an attempt to forget the conversation she and Arthur had been having, "what hell he will put us through, eh?"

"Does that mean you still intend to stay," Arthur questioned the girl. She was unable to discern the emotion behind his tone, but his voice seemed considerably light and she wondered if her words had sparked a new fire in his heart.

"Of course," Gaia replied with raised eyebrows. "I'm curious as to how Galahad's account of the night's events will change over the months."

"And over the women," added Gawain.

* * *

Days went by, and Gaia had avoided Arthur as much as possible, tending to his wounds until he was able to treat himself, and walk around freely. The fortress had not been attacked, as Gaia predicted, and Woads had not yet been spotted south of the wall.

She stood in the large quarters that served as a hospital for both Galahad and Lancelot, with the other knights around her, and Arthur having managed to walk across the hall. Galahad was still abed, and would be for some time, and the knights felt that they should all surround him to keep him somewhat sobered to the idea of living in this room for a month, at least until he learned to succumb to it a bit.

Tristan, who had been standing to Gaia's left, placed an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him slightly, her mind still reeling from the conversation with Arthur, and wondering if the Roman would ever bring the subject up again. Tristan's arm had been removed of it's bandaging and he put his hand to her cheek in a sweet motion, placing his forehead against hers and staring into her eyes.

"You saved Lancelot's life, you realize that," he questioned seriously.

"I only aided," Gaia began, but Tristan gave her a stern look, and she was silent.

"Tristan's right," Arthur said from Gaia's other side. She did not notice that the other knights had turned their attention towards her. "Over the months, Gaia, you've shown us loyalty, love, compassion, and, above all things, a sincerity that has been deprived of us for many years. A sincerity that we have well forgotten in our years of brutal and bloody wars."

Gaia noticed as Bors put an arm around Vanora and pulled her closer. Vanora, of course, slapped Bors before kissing him lightly.

"For this sincerity of which I speak," Arthur continued, and Gaia returned her glance to the man as tears stung at her eyes, "we are indebted to you, and I speak for us all when I say thank you, for everything."

Gaia left Tristan's side to embrace each of the other knights in turn, uncertain when she arrived at Arthur. He, however, pulled her into a sweet embrace and whispered into her ear, "Your words have made my soul take wing". She smiled at this and felt her face flush yet again.

She paused at Lancelot's bed to slap him when he attempted a kiss. When he dramatically placed his hand to his cheek and looked disconcerted, Gaia laughed and acquiesced..

She made her way back to Tristan's embrace as the men delve deeper into their drink and merriment. The two lovers were silent as they stared into each other's eyes, their romantic reverie being broken, finally, as the men around them grew rowdy.

"You're sure you can stand another year of this," Tristan questioned jocosely with a tilt of his head in the direction of Galahad, who was, once again, retelling his story of survival to a bored looking nurse.

"Only if you promise not to do another crazy thing like run into a battle with only one arm," she retorted.

"I'll do what I can," replied Tristan with a smirk. He leaned down and kissed the young Briton with fervor, and pulled away to find her raising her eyebrows. He stifled his laughter and embraced her gently.

Gaia felt that same warmth rush through her that she had felt only when in the presence of these wonderful men. It was a comradery, a sisterly love for them. And, though there were certainly trials in the future, she vowed that this next year would be the best of her life. Though she would be faced with her father's pagan people yet again, and, undoubtedly, Merlin himself, she braved herself and faced her fears with pride and faith. These men would be the catalyst, completing the evanescence of her past. Now, she rested her head on Tristan's shoulder as she watched the knights in their splendor, reminiscing in the thoughts of midsummer past, the most miraculous time in the world.

_-Finis-

* * *

_

_**A/N:** And there you have it! The end! I put off posting this chapter because I didn't want to be done with this story! It's so sad, but now I have the sequel to work on! Yay! I'll have the first chapter soon, I promise. I hope you all enjoyed this story! I have a list of people I'd like to thank.._

_**ms genova** for reviewing every single chapter! You are really too sweet and you have no idea how much you inspired me with your encouragements! Thank you so much!_

_**cardeia** for her insightful (and sometimes lengthy) reviews. You helped me a great deal while writing this, and whilst writing the sequel, at that. Thanks, my dear!_

_**lancelottristanbaby** for reviewing so often, I was glad to see you stuck with me to the end. Thank you!_

_and to **lovelyheidi**, **krisy8930**, **babaksmiles, captain annie, lady11occult, sea cucumber, arawen, **and **spectrallady** for all their kind reviews, along with any I forgot to mention here. __Each and every one of you have made this such an incredible experience for me, I cannot put it into words. So, all I can do is blabber on my thanks and hope you know it's from my heart._

_To everyone who read the story, I thank you for sticking with me through the whole thing. This was so amazing, and I can't wait to do it again! Until the next story, I bid you all a very fond farewell. God bless, and thanks once more._

_Sincerely Yours,  
IdrilThePirate_


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